


Awaken, Tears Are Falling

by Ginkage



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Elemental Magic, Found Family, I have no idea what I'm doing, Magic, Multi, OT8, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy, tags will update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 63,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginkage/pseuds/Ginkage
Summary: Dreams. Nightmares. Manifestations of the psyche and windows into the soul.It began in dreams. Dreams which seemed normal at first, easy enough to brush off when open eyes blinked sleep away or unclouded from a daydream. Harder to ignore when elements bled into more than one dream or haunted a nightmare.It wasn't long before the nightmares were more common than the dreams. Sometimes they were familiar, enough to recognize themselves in them.Then it wasn’t just themselves they were seeing in those nightmares.  Then the nameless faces began asking the dreamers each one question.Who am I?
Comments: 22
Kudos: 28





	1. Edge of Consciousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate any and all comments!
> 
> This was originally set as a prologue chapter in my writing, but it got really confusing on titles so I've just left it as is. :)
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)

Dreams. Nightmares. Manifestations of the psyche and windows into the soul. 

It began in dreams. Dreams which seemed normal at first, easy enough to brush off when open eyes blinked sleep away or unclouded from a daydream. Harder to ignore when elements bled into more than one dream or haunted a nightmare. 

The dreams were innocuous in the beginning. The rumble of earth beneath one's feet in a dreamscape. The tousling of hair by a breeze from nowhere. Shadows that seemed to stretch further than they should. A drop of water splashing to roll down an outstretched hand. A candle burning impossibly bright in a dim room. The warmth of a ray of light across a wooden floor. Scraped knuckles mending themselves with the touch of a hand. The perspective-change of running on two feet to running on four. 

It was hard to say when the dreams changed. Mountains split and fell as fire poured from their depths. The winds of a storm raged and lashed the dreamscape in torrents of water that flooded everything in sight. Darkness overtook the land and the creatures residing there grew unrecognizable. Ripples of lightning carved gouges in the dreamscape that refused to become whole beneath shaking hands. 

It wasn't long before the nightmares were more common than the dreams. Sometimes they were familiar, enough to recognize themselves in them. 

Then it wasn’t just themselves they were seeing in those nightmares. 

_ The sensation of falling as the ground crumbled beneath once-steady feet. The sky vanishing above as once-faithful earth swallowed hands that reached up for salvation.  _

_ Being flung impossibly high into skies turbulent with lightning and rain. The very breath in capable lungs seeming to vanish as hands reached for a frozen throat.  _

_ Tendrils of once-loved shadow curling up like vines, twining around strong legs and climbing higher. Then the harsh scream as frantic arms were yanked down into a pit of darkness, the depth of it swallowing even voice. _

_ Standing ankle deep in a trickle of river, the rumbling growing louder in panicked ears as eyes scanned upstream in disbelief. Then the rushing wall of water, rocks, and trees sweeping everything away and bringing only pain.  _

_ A room in flames with no escape, smoke choking lungs that cried out for release. Fingers reaching out to calm the licking fire pulling back in pain as the inferno burns white hot and consumes everything.  _

_ Light is everywhere, blinding and painful in its intensity. It bleeds into every crack and defies attempts to hide from it. It sears eyes past the point of merely watering until sight vanishes and the world falls away in darkness.  _

_ Pain. Everywhere is pain without ending. Wounds of every sort at every turn and shaking hands try to ease them all until strength fails and the ground rushes up to meet dimming senses.  _

_ Fleeing at breakneck speed from a faceless horror that seems to change in kind with each attempt to shift form and get away. Eyes look back to gauge how close the dreaded pursuer is... only to see their own face before the monster overtakes them.  _

Eight voices cried out as one as eight eyes snapped open in abject terror. Eight souls in eight trembling bodies lay breathless, trying in their own ways to process what they'd seen and heard amidst it all. 

_ A flash of short crimson hair and thoughtful grey eyes. A feeling of power and stability, of being grounded in themselves.  _

_ Dark, cat-like onyx eyes glancing up from below dark brown hair. Grace with every movement and a voice like a gentle breeze.  _

_ Dark hair shading to a silvery blue and a raspy, rapid-fire voice. Sharp, dark eyes dance with shadows and mystery.  _

_ Long strands of white-blonde hair framing piercing blue eyes and a tender smile. Every movement is fluid and purposeful.  _

_ Dark hair glinting with rainbow shades, puffed cheeks, and dark eyes bright with a laugh. A fiery warmth spreads everywhere around them.  _

_ Silver-blonde hair and a spray of freckles above a sunshine smile. Pale blue eyes are alive with light, their depths shining from within.  _

_ Soulfully dark eyes framed by equally dark locks, piercing yet peaceful. A soaring voice seems to bring a healing calm.  _

_Deep blue hair falling into silvery grey, fox-like eyes that hold a youthful mischief. Playful laughter seems to shift and change tones at whim._

They all seemed familiar, yet none of them knew who these faces were besides their own. The dreams and nightmares had become more intense over the past few months. The visions of themselves and these other faces grew clearer by the day yet forever a mystery. 

Then the nameless faces began asking the dreamers each one question.

_ Who am I? _

  
  



	2. Field of Dreams, Maze of Memories

_It started simply enough, like many dreams he'd had before. His psyche conjured an endless field of pale, wheat-colored grass that tickled his knees through the ripped fabric of his jeans. His fingertips brushed a few stems as he walked barefoot between them under skies tinged with the rose of sunset. It was quiet and still, the barest of breezes shifting his hair from where it brushed the collar of the soft grey poet-style shirt he wore. He felt the slight weight of a chain around his neck and the gentle bump of something suspended from it hitting his chest as he walked. A brief glance downward gave him a glimpse of a key, but it was too fuzzy in this dream to make out details._

_Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement, the barest flash of dark brown against the lighter grass. His head turned towards it and found only empty field, fronds of vegetation shifting softly as if in the wake of another’s passage. He paused, squinting in that direction briefly as if to make whatever he saw reappear. After a breath or two, nothing surfaced, and so he continued onwards. The peace around him was calming even though there were no birds overhead, no clouds in the pink-tinged sky, no trees to wave in the faint breeze._

_Then came the cry._

_The scream of pain ripped through the stillness like a klaxon and set every nerve ablaze with wrongness. His head whipped towards its source as another followed, broken and needy in its wordless anguish. Feet moved of their own accord, heading for the perceived damage without delay. Grass was trampled in haste, bowing low beneath the rush to find, to help, to save. Blood rushed in strong beats that echoed in his ears in time with his footfalls as he neared where the cry came from._

_The strands of grass parted before him to reveal a horror scene. Flattened pale golden stalks, broken like tiny spears, laid in a small clearing. He expected to find a body, yet there was only the bright red of blood pooling in the center, splashed across the grass, seedheads bobbing like so many bloody spearpoints. His pulse pounded in his ears as he tentatively stepped into the clearing and looked around. He felt rather than heard as his voice called out, trying to get the person who cried out to answer him._

_As he turned in place, a trail of sorts appeared in the grass before him, spotted red and looking as though someone had stumbled through it haphazardly. Cautiously picking his way around the pool of blood soaking into the ground, he followed the trail further onward. It seemed as if hours passed and yet no time at all as he followed the crimson trail, pulse throbbing in his veins as the trail grew thicker and thicker. Another cry sounded out ahead, weaker this time and filled with desperation._

_He almost didn’t realize that there was a grove of trees ahead of him until he began to feel the shade creeping up his body. It cooled the flush of heat that had come with the adrenaline that fueled him. The cries had died down to whimpers as he neared, certain he was close but uncertain of what he’d find._

_As he broke through the grass into the space just before the trees, he got his answer. Splayed out before him was a young man, his form fuzzy and defying the eye to focus on details. The figure was black and white compared to the color around him, save for the spreading pool of crimson beneath him and the gashes littering arms and legs. Some of it trickled down his cheek from a mouth panting open as eyes gazed up at the sky._

_He felt a warmth in his hands as he neared the figure, coming to kneel carelessly in the creeping blood, not caring how it stained his knees and shins as he reached out. He was certain he could heal this stranger, bring him whole with the gift inside him. He reached out to touch a death-pale shoulder, to calm and soothe._

_Then the figure turned its head to face him and his heart stopped. The face looking back at him was his own. Pale blue eyes full of fear and pain gazed sightlessly back at him, silver-blonde hair splayed across his forehead and tinged with crimson where it fanned out slightly beneath his neck._

_“Help me… “ gasped his own voice, growing weaker with each labored breath. His hands reached out… but they weren’t his hands. The skintone was subtly darker, the fingers larger and the palm broader, even the nails different._

_He blinked, trying to clear his vision, and the world tilted focus. Suddenly he was looking up at the sky, and everywhere was pain. He turned and whispered a plea to the figure at his side as darkness threatened at the edges of his vision._

_The young man at his side looked stricken, a soft amber glow coming from his outstretched hands. Raven hair, its rounded cut slightly dishevelled from the run through the grass, fell into deep, dark eyes that seemed to entreat him to hold a little longer. A gently rounded face and soft lips leaned closer to his almost endearingly. A soft blue sweater and blue jeans soaking red at the knees rounded out the image as his sight began to fuzz out._

_“No! Stay with me! Please! Don’t go!”_

_“FELIX!”_

The clock by his bed read 4:17AM and the world outside the curtains was still dark when Felix's eyes snapped open. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stared up at the ceiling above his bed, loud enough that he was sure it must be echoing in the quiet of his bedroom. Breath shuddered through his chest as his mind swirled with afterimages that still seemed too real. 

Raising a shaking hand from beneath the blankets, he shoved a chunk of sweat-soaked moon-pale hair off his forehead and licked his lips. Tonight had been the blood and pain nightmare again and the sensation of dying was still lingering. Pain didn’t bother him, he’d experienced it enough times as a dancer. Same with the blood after enough nights of dealing with blistered feet. This was different, more personal, and always more gruesome than daily life should ever allow him.

The clock ticked onward and twenty minutes passed before his pulse slowed and breathing came more easily to him. Sitting up in bed, Felix plucked at his damp tank top with one hand as the other fell to rest in his duvet-covered lap. His eyes ached and his head was starting to throb. Another glance at the clock had him swearing under his breath. He had practice at eight that morning with classes after and there was no way he was getting back to sleep now. 

Throwing the plush duvet aside, he rolled to the left and sat for a few moments, wriggling bare toes against the chill of the bare wood floor. Glancing out through the half-closed blinds, he rubbed gingerly at one eye and let out a gusty breath. The lights of the city below twinkled in the early November chill, making the touch of frost at the edges of the window shimmer. He focused for a moment on the crystalline fractals of ice and let his mind drift for a moment. 

The nightmares had been getting more and more frequent. At first it had been sporadic, once every few weeks and interspersed with far less damaging dreamscapes. Felix remembered when he first noticed the dreams were changing. It had been late spring and he'd been in the swing of preparing for end-of-year performances for his dance major and finishing off a round of exams for his foreign language minor. 

He hadn't been particularly stressed, he thought. No more than any third-year university student looking forward to finishing another year. The late-night into early morning practices were grueling and, yes, he did go to bed sometimes too sore to properly care for himself, but it all seemed part of the sacrifice of achieving a goal. 

It was the night after the debut show that the university's dance department had put on. Months of prep, sore muscles, and sleepless nights had culminated in a nearly flawless performance. Felix had been out late, celebrating with his classmates and letting off steam, and had stumbled back into his apartment with a slight buzz and the adrenaline of the night having worn off in the elevator ride up to the 5th floor. 

Shucking just enough clothing to keep from tying himself up in bed, he fell face-first onto the bed and crawled up to his pillows. Rolling on to his back, he stared goofily up at the ceiling for a few minutes before his eyes fluttered closed. He'd worry in the morning about the make-up and body glitter that still clung to his skin, the spray and mousse that had sculpted his pale hair into careless waves. He’d let the beat of his heart slow as he drifted off into exhausted sleep.

He woke with a gasp a few hours later, his mind flooded with imagery that seemed more intense than any he’d experienced before. It had been a good dream up until there was a rumbling sound and everything had been swept away in a torrent of water. As he lay there, panting, trying to make sense of the dream it began to slowly dawn on him that he’d dreamed something like it before. Just never so fear-inducing and so damn real. 

He couldn’t even bring himself to get into the shower and wash himself off after that dream-turned-nightmare. He’d curled up on his couch and pulled up something innocuous on Netflix and binged until his eyes burned. At that point the sleep he fell into was too fitful for dreams, but at least he slept. 

Now, as Felix sat on the edge of his bed and ran a toe along the wood grain of his floor, he thought hard about tonight’s nightmare. This was the first time he’d actually seen one of the figures in his dreams so clearly. So many details that punched out at him with ferocity and refused to fade like a dream should and there was an odd tugging feeling whenever he recalled the young man’s desperate visage. 

Then one thing struck him as he mulled the dream over. 

The figure had known his name. That was a first. Voices had been few and far between in the visions to date and most of the time they were wordless whispers or screams. Never had they been actual words.   
Felix frowned and lifted a hand to rub at his throbbing forehead and sighed. He didn’t have time for puzzles like this, he had so many other things to do with his life than try and interpret his dreams. 

He must’ve sat there for a few hours when the 6:30AM alarm on his phone went off, a bright sound of brass horns and a punctuated bell-like synth beat spilling out into the darkness of his room. He glared at it for a minute or so before reaching over to swipe his thumb across the button to silence it. “Ugh. Today is just going to suck, isn’t it?” he muttered under his breath lowly, raking his hair back from his face as he stood and ambled towards the bathroom. 

A hot shower would make a difference and then maybe, just maybe, he could try and make more sense out of the world than what was in his head. A stop for coffee was definitely in order and he knew he had plenty of time to stop in on the way to morning practice. He sorted through the local shops in his head as he ducked under the spray of water and half-smiled, knowing just the place. They always managed to make the perfect flat white and they had the best mocha syrup….

\----------

“Order for Jamie!” 

Popping the lid on the steaming latte, Seungmin set the cup on the pickup counter and tossed a friendly smile to the red-headed woman who otherwise ignored him. It didn’t really bother him all that much, it wasn’t as if he expected half the customers coming into his job to be civil human beings. There were the few exceptions as always, but he had to admit that most folks were there with a purpose and it surely wasn’t to partake of his sunny nature. 

At least not this early in the morning. 

He’d done his best most of the day to plaster that smile onto his face despite being incredibly tired. Sleep had been elusive all week and it made it so hard to try and get through one of his few morning shifts around classes. He hoped he’d have enough energy for his voice lessons tonight, let alone the open mic night he’d thought about hitting up at the end of the week. 

As a lull fell over the shop for a moment, he breathed out a gusty sigh and caught himself before he leaned on the counter, instead grabbing a rag and wiping it down. The shine of the light off the counter gave him a moment’s pause and his thoughts wandered to the previous afternoon. 

He’d just gotten out of a lecture that, for once, had threatened to bore him directly into a nap. His third year in his physical therapy major should’ve been a breeze, but he hadn’t slept well in weeks. Well, months actually if he had to think about it. He’d walked over to the campus library, set on doing a bit of research for an upcoming paper. At least that’s what he’d planned. After hunting the shelves for a book or two and settling down in an armchair in one of the more secluded sections of the library, he’d barely gotten a few pages in when fatigue caught up with him and he’d nodded off. That’s when the dream had found him and he still wasn’t sure if he considered it a dream or a nightmare. 

Dumping the rag in a bin of water in the sink, he turned and leaned against the cold metal and let his gaze unfocus out the coffee shop’s windows as he mulled over his dream. It had seemed almost playful at first...

_It was dark, quiet, still as he walked through the maze alone. High walls of thick vines surrounded him on either side, the corridor they formed seeming impenetrable to the naked eye. Yet there seemed to be a faint glow hidden amongst the leaves as he passed, bare feet making no sound on the flagstone path beneath them. How long had he been on the path? How many turns had he made trying to find his way out? He’d lost count long ago but he didn’t seem to mind._

_A murmur whispered through the air behind him, a throaty growl of a sound that rippled down his spine and had him turning to look at the path behind him. Nothing met his gaze but darkness and he raised arm clad in layered dark grey fabric to run a hand along the hairs that had stood up along his neck. Shaking his head, he turned back towards the path in front of him and barely caught the pale flash that snuck out of sight._

_He called out wordlessly and frowned at the faint afterglow-like trail that disappeared around a corner ahead. It seemed out of place, even with the soft light present in the maze walls. It was almost too bright and yet it called to him to follow._

_Which he did, steps picking up in pace to a light jog to come up to where the trail was just beginning to fade out. He felt the key dangling from his neck bouncing against his chest lightly, but he gave it little thought. Turning the corner showed him a gradually receding glow that appeared to swirl about in the air currents along the ground, occasionally sparking as if with tiny fireworks. Blinking in surprise, he continued to follow the trail._

_The further he followed, the thicker the trail grew until he was practically walking through eddies of fog-like glow. The soft silver color of the light wrapped around his legs, lighting up the black of his jeans and sparking off the metal of his belt buckle. He looked up from the trail to see if there was another bend to follow and caught the pale flash again as it seemed to pause ahead, blurry and indistinct, but seeming to have the shape of a person._

_He held out one hand as if entreating the figure to stop, but all that reached back to him was a playful giggle before the pale figure darted forward into a suddenly brighter corridor of light. As the figure disappeared into the silver glow, it pulsed softly and seemed to beckon him forward. Intrigued, he answered the unspoken call and strode purposefully forward and turned that last corner to step into the light._

_Suddenly, the brightness was everywhere. It was as if someone had suddenly flicked a flashlight on in his face after total darkness and he winced back for a moment, blinking rapidly at the overwhelming change. He turned to try and go back down the path into the dark maze, but each turn brought nothing but a silvery-white expanse that pressed in on him. It felt like the brighter the light got, the thicker the air got. His eyes watered at the unrelenting glare that even shielding his eyes with his sleeve did not relieve._

_Then the light started to burn. It felt like he’d been standing under a thousand suns, his light tan skin no protection from the harshness of it. It felt like a hundred stinging cuts over any exposed flesh and he tried to curl his fingers into his sleeves to protect them. His body angled downward under the pressure of so much light, the heat of it unbearable and his legs becoming weak._

_His sight began to grey at the edges under the onslaught and he knew it wasn’t going to be long before he was going to probably pass out. It was then that a hand gripped first one elbow, then the other, holding him up with a strength that didn’t seem to match the small fingers that came with them. His knees wobbled dangerously and he dared to raise his head to meet whoever he could feel was standing in front of him. He barely managed to blink tears from his eyes and stared dumbly as black and white resolved into crystal color for the barest of breaths._

_He gazed into his own dark eyes, gone wide with fear beneath his raven hair, skin gone deeply pink as if sunburned and panting as if having run a mile. The finest of cuts, shallow enough to keep from drawing blood, but visible nonetheless covered every inch of exposed skin and he watched as the firework-like sparks danced across the space between himself and whited out his vision for a moment._

_When his sight cleared, he was looking down slightly at a young man who glowed. No, he didn’t merely glow, he was practically incandescent. It was if the light wasn’t just around him, it WAS him, and it poured off every inch of him. Silver-blonde hair glittered like a fine metal and pale blue eyes were like spotlights as they bored into him, the freckles spattered across his face mimicking sunspots in their contrasting darkness. The overwhelming light poured out from the confines of his black and grey clothing, almost dripping out of gaps in clothing as if it couldn’t get out fast enough._

_The figure seemed to be trying to restrain the light within himself, struggling to tamp down the power so as not to cause further damage… but he was failing and fast. The look on his face became one of both fear and failure as whatever control he was grasping for snapped and the light FLARED out of him._

_Every cut seemed to magnify in agony all at once and it felt now as if he was on fire himself, fingers gripping the embodiment of light like a lifeline as the throaty whisper from before echoed in his ears and his eyes failed him._

_“I’m so sorry. So, so, sorry… oh Seungmin…”_

The jingling of the chain of bells at the coffee shop door startled him out his thoughts abruptly and he inhaled a sharp breath. For a brief moment Seungmin expected to feel the air sear his lungs at the memory of the dream, only to realize that he was hours past that experience and the lights around him were far less glaring. The sound of his name echoed faintly in his ears in time with the bells and the discord it set off in his thoughts reeled him for a moment. Just how had they known his name, anyway?

Shaking his head to clear it, he sighed and glanced towards the counter expectantly, waiting for the newly arrived customer. His eyes out of habit checked over the various pieces of equipment before he pushed away from the sink and ambled towards the register. He didn’t immediately register the person that had stepped up, eyes barely noting the rose-colored sweater and faded and ripped grey jeans that met the edge of the counter. 

“Mmm… can I get a large flat white with mocha. Oh, and a plain egg bagel.” came a deep voice, tinged a little with the typical morning fatigue Seungmin was used to hearing from college students who frequented the shop. Admittedly, he saw a lot of people come through the shop every day, but there were always folks that stood out even if most days were a ‘blink and you’d miss them’ scenario. 

Yet, something in the voice today tugged at him. A little voice inside him, still caught up in yesterday’s dream, picked up something in the presence across the counter that was… familiar? 

There’s no way… came the thought as he raised his head from tapping the order into the computer and fixed his eyes on the customer in front of him. For a split second, he regretted the action before he felt his jaw fall open. 

Standing in front of him, pale blue eyes scanning the menu board, was a face straight from his dreams. Silver blond hair peaked out from beneath a dark grey beanie, framing a sun-warmed face dusted liberally with freckles and brushing the collar of his sweater. His softly bowed mouth was pursed slightly as he looked up, Seungmin’s fish-like gaping having not entered his apparent field of view. One small hand adjusted the messenger bag slung cross-body across his slim torso while the other fingered a card out of a slot on the bag. 

He wasn’t glowing… but he was unmistakeable otherwise. He looked as soft as Seungmin felt sunshine should feel. 

“A-anything else for you?” came the softly voiced reply to Felix’s order, and he glanced down from the menu directly into deep brown eyes that bored into his. His own widened slightly at the corners as he took in the owner of the voice that he’d only just heard this morning. 

The other man was barely taller than him, eyes shadowed slightly from the rounded fringe of his raven hair. Even without the forest green apron with the shop’s logo on it, the nametag pinned to reading ‘Seungmin’, he cut a decent figure in a black turtleneck with the sleeves folded up to his elbows. A quarter-sized silver pendant on a slim chain dangled around his neck and simple blue jeans peeked into view behind the counter. He reminded Felix a bit of a puppy, even if he did rather look like a fish at the moment with his mouth fallen open. 

Blue eyes stared into brown eyes. It seemed time stopped for a moment and neither one dared breathe. Each could see the blatant disbelief written on each other’s features. Seungmin searched those eyes for a trace of that searing light from his dreams while Felix searched in kind for the soothing gaze that had tried to take away his pain. There was a tugging sensation between them that seemed to build and build, like a rubber band being stretched and pulled painfully thin. 

Then it snapped with lightning-like intensity. Both men jolted in place, Seungmin inhaling sharply and bracing himself on the register while Felix leaned on the counter. They both looked down to find their hands touching, just barely the fingertips, but contact was there. Sound flooded back in at that moment and they broke apart as if burned. 

Felix found his voice first, clearing his throat and fumbling his debit card in his other hand as he looked away. His pulse thrummed in his ears and every nerve felt awakened as he dared to glance back to the dark-haired barista. 

“No… tha-that’s all. Thank you. How much?” he found his voice to reply, offering the other man a tentative smile that belied the churning that was forming in his gut. Felix glanced at the clock on the nearby wall, somehow certain that time had escaped him but finding it had barely been five minutes. He barely registered the sound of fingers fumbling on the register screen and the clearing of the barista’s throat in kind before he rattled off the total shakily. 

“What’s the name?” Seungmin asked, licking his lips and endeavoring to keep his jaw from falling open again as he snagged a cup and a pen to write whatever name happened to fall from the other’s lips. He hoped that the fire he felt in his cheeks wasn’t too obvious as he dared to glance at the blonde again. 

“Felix.” came the soft reply that raised the hairs on Seungmin’s neck much the way it had in his dream. He scribbled the name on the cup, set it aside, and steeled himself to reach out for the card in the other man’s grasp. Somehow they avoided touching each other in the exchange and soon the card was returned with a receipt. 

“I’ll have that right out for you.” Felix nodded slowly, accepting the almost shy smile as the barista ducked away to make his drink and food. He wandered down to the end of the counter and leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone and appearing to check his messages. It was a flimsy distraction really, as his eyes kept flicking to the dark head of hair that bobbed back and forth as its owner worked. 

He stared into the screen long enough that he spaced out, only catching the second or third call of his name and snapping his head up dazedly. The look in Seungmin’s eyes was achingly familiar now, holding a faint entreaty as he set Felix’s drink down on the counter and gave him a smile with a bit more life to it. A brown paper bag with his warmed bagel waited next to it, and he tucked his phone away again to pick up both. His eyes flicked briefly to the other man’s hands, almost expectantly, but masked his confusion at the lack of a familiar amber glow on them. 

“Have a nice day, Felix. Stop in again soon.” Seungmin offered with as much warmth as he dared given the situation. So many answers to so many questions resided in the slender form that decided to walk into his shop today that suddenly he didn’t want him to leave. Especially with the way Felix looked at his hands with… faint disappointment? So many questions were coming to his mind. 

“I… I will, thanks.” Felix replied, stealing a quick sip of his drink and daring to return the offered warmth with a smile of his own as he pushed off the wall and began to head for the door. He felt eyes follow him as he rounded the tables in the shop and began to make his exit. One hand was on the handle when he stopped and turned just enough to look over his shoulder at this barista with his nametag of Seungmin. He cocked his head slightly to one side and quirked his mouth up at one corner. 

“Hey… how late do you work this place today?” he asked, taking his hand off the door and fitfully brushing his fringe away from his eyes a bit. 

“I’m off at noon.” Seungmin replied, internally startling himself with the quick reply, posture straightening as he walked around the counter and halfway to the other man. He hoped his next words wouldn’t fall wrong to the other’s hearing. “I’m off class for the rest of the day…”

“I’m not, but skipping a day won’t kill me. Meet me in the park two blocks north around 1?” The words tumbled out of Felix’s mouth as if that was the only response worth giving. The buzzing forming in the back of his head told him something was right about it. He didn’t wait for Seungmin’s response and pushed the door open, walking out onto the street outside. Before he let the door drift from his fingertips, he called back over his shoulder to the barista. 

“I have a feeling we have a lot to talk about.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any and all comments and feedback! <3
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	3. The More I Let Go Of You The Higher I Fly

“And 5, 6, 7, 8…” Minho called out as he walked between the rows of teens running through the week’s choreo lesson. A calmly critical eye raked over form after form, one hand on his hip as the other dangled loosely at his side. He paused briefly to correct positioning on one young man, getting him to raise one slightly drooping arm. Another he called out to about putting a bit more punch into a movement. Turning at the end of the row, he dragged the fingers of one hand through his dark brown hair and licked his lips briefly. 

He was inwardly glad that today’s group was one of his better classes, he didn’t have to do quite as much today to walk them through the choreo. They’d been on this routine for weeks in prep for a showcase this weekend and most of the work was just tightening up what was already there. It let him get away with feeling tired and a little worn out without having to really show that he could probably sit on the piano bench in the corner and take a good long nap. 

He briefly thought that he might have taken on a bit too much responsibility this semester. Finishing up his last year in his dance major, being an assistant for one of his teachers at the university, and teaching these classes was starting to wear a bit. 

It didn’t help that sleep was not his friend right now, when he found he could sleep at all. 

He was normally a light sleeper, but when the dreams and nightmares hit, it was usually on nights where sleep was badly needed and he slept harder as a result. Waking up in a cold sweat and then not being able to get back to sleep was taking a toll. It had just begun to make an impact on his studies and his work and it was leaving him more than a bit snappish some days. 

“Hey, teach! You want us to run through again or are we done?” called a girl’s voice from across that studio caught his attention before he could sink into any sort of reverie. Minho’s head popped up to fix on the source and he quirked a smile at the dancer in question who was propping herself up with her hands on her knees. 

“Get out of here, all of you. I can’t polish this diamond anymore. You’ll do fine this weekend. Zach! Remember to keep your arms up! See you all Tuesday, I want a report!” He called back before heading to the piano bench and sinking down onto it. He tossed waves at the kids as they gathered their stuff from around the room and trooped out, some propping each other up with tired legs. The kids worked hard, he was reasonably proud of them. 

Scooting the bench back until it hit the wall, he leaned his head back against the cool wood and let a breath out. That was his last class of the day and he knew he had some time before anyone was due to take over this room. A little nap wouldn’t hurt before he headed back to his apartment, the quiet in the soundproofed room would do him some good. 

The door clicked behind the last student and his eyes were already closed. The air stilled as his breathing slowed. 

_ The cliff rose high above the ocean below, the faint misty spray drifting up from where it crashed on the rocks below. He turned away from it and walked slowly towards the nearby stream that wound it’s way up to the cliff’s edge. The gentle tumble of the water seemed dwarfed by the thundering waves below, so he walked along its banks until the sea receded from hearing. The babble of water over small rocks was just as soothing and he followed it into the tree line. The slight chill to the air seemed to seep through the black t-shirt and white button-up covering his torso, dampness settling over legs clad in charcoal-grey cargo pants. _

_ He paused by a small pool that branched off, reaching down fingertips to brush the cool wetness and smiled as tiny fingerlings of fish came to nibble his skin. Wriggling them, they scattered briefly only to return and tickle the pads of his fingers and glide against his nails. The key dangling from around his neck dipped closer to the water, reflecting off of its surface briefly. Withdrawing his hand from the pool, he shook his hand and watched as the droplets made the calmer water ripple. Then he began walking again, bare feet finding softer patches of moss or grass to walk along.  _

_ The trees around him swayed gently in a light breeze, their leaves rustling in an invisible language as he followed the stream. It was peaceful here, nothing seemed disturbed. He could glance a bit ahead and see rain in the distance along a mountain ridge but thought little of it. So far away, it wouldn’t hit this stream for a while.  _

_ There was a rustling across the stream from him, a bare glimpse of a blurry black and white figure ghosted at his periphery. Turning his head that way left him with an empty expanse of still forest with a few waving bits of underbrush. He frowned and turned to look further around him expectantly. He felt the vibration in his throat as he called out, but no sound reached his ears save the whisper of the stream.  _

_ A faint rumble thrummed under his feet. Not enough to be distracting from his perception of someone around him, but it was there. He chalked it up to possible footsteps nearby and moved further up the stream cautiously. He didn’t notice the small silty trail that began to feed down the stream beside him.  _

_ A few minutes passed as he moved a bit further upstream, the rumbling becoming noticeable at last. A flush of birds flew over his head and, behind him, a voice called out sharply in the distance. He spun on his heel to face it but his eyes were met with empty forest. A muddy path formed in the stream and a few broken bits of wood burbled past him.  _

_ A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned sharply again to catch a black and white blur at his side. The height of it shifted and changed, as did features that defied the eye to focus on one detail or another, flipping between light hair and dark in the same breath.  _

_ The ground shook horribly and both he and the figure beside him half-crouched as it threatened to unseat their footing. Both of them glanced up the stream, now noting the smaller bits of debris that were beginning to come down it it along with the water level that had risen significantly. He looked down to find water beginning to lap at his feet when before the bank had been at least a foot or so above the water.  _

_ The hand on his shoulder clenched sharply and brought his attention up again just before it pushed him in an attempt to turn back downstream. He froze for a second as he looked further up the stream and saw the veritable wall of water that seemed to peek at him through the trees. White, churning water, underlaid with shades of black and brown, tumbled towards him at what seemed to be an inhuman speed. The figure at his side was trying to turn him, push him back downstream, urging him to run.  _

_ Something in him hesitated as the shape next to him began to resolve with surprising clarity. Shock rippled through him as he found he was looking at himself. Dark, wind-tousled brown hair and equally dark brown looked back towards the incoming flood with abject terror spread across his face. One hand reached out for his own elbow and made his worldview shift sharply.  _

_ Blinking rapidly, his head turned from the wall of water, rocks, and trees pounding closer and stared into a pair of sharp blue eyes and hair the color of sunlight framing a lightly tanned face. A reassuring smile lit up those ocean eyes, the crinkle of them highlighting a mole beneath the left one as they glanced past him, and an arm clad a peach-colored long-sleeve shirt grabbed his elbow and pulled. Strong legs clad in fitted dark-brown pants bent and dug bare feet into the earth below them and moved him behind them.  _

_ The other hand came up, palm out towards the torrenting stream as branches snapped and cracked in the distance and the water beside them rose to ankle height. Fingers glowed with a soft blue edge and the young man strained slightly towards the destructive mass. The other hand continued to push him before shouting back.  _

_ “I can’t keep it back forever. Run! Dammit, don’t just look at it, GO!” _

_ The last shove broke through his brief paralyzation and he turned and ran. Rocks and sticks cut at his feet as he ran pell-mell through the forest back towards the cliff, the sound of water pounding behind him and growing nearer with each desperate breath.  _

_ He paused briefly to glance over at his shoulder, seeing the young man once more, this time standing fully in the stream with both hands held out towards the flood. Wisps of blue energy seemed to stream off of him for a moment, forming a sort of web that barely was holding back the water and debris. He could see shoulders shake with the effort, legs planted firmly but trembling.  _

_ “MINHO! JUST GO!” came the sharp yell back to him, the blonde head half-turning to entreat him to move. Then there was a snapping sound and the water wiped him from view. His own breath caught in his throat as he turned and ran again. The water reached him before he broke the tree line, and all went black.  _

The flood of light back into Minho’s vision was accompanied by falling off the piano bench and onto the floor. His pulse pounded in his ears and he stared at the worn, glazed-over wood planks sightlessly as his breath came in heaves and gasps. He felt as if he actually had been running as in the dream-turned-nightmare, and he had to tell himself after a minute that it wasn’t water running down the back of his neck. He even felt his limbs ache with the imagined impacts from the debris in the dream. 

It was hard to say just how long he sat there on the floor, but eventually he moved so his back was up against the wall, knees curled up and his arms folded atop them. He stared out into the studio, eyes loosely focused on the middle distance as his mind worked over the imagery. This was the first time one had hit him in the middle of the day, mostly because his chances at midday naps were few and far between. 

The flood dream wasn’t new, he’d had it among others over the past few months, but it was one that seemed to stick out more. Probably because something that practically stole the breath from his lungs triggered some sort of deep-seated fear in him. Even the fire dream didn’t linger like that, and it stole breath in a different way. That and the young man in this dream happened to know his name. How the hell did that work?

After his pulse finally began to settle to normal, he dared a glance out at one of the windows that lined the studio. It was nearing sunset and the sky was turning a motley of pinks and oranges with purple shading in behind it. Minho figured he’d maybe gotten an hour’s nap in, he didn’t feel as tired, but he probably would once the rest of the adrenaline wore out of his system. 

Shoving himself up from the floor, he ran both hands through sweat-dampened hair and then used one hand to pluck his equally damp graphic tee away from his chest. His practice sneakers squeaked slightly on the floor as he crossed a set of cubbies by the door and collected his bag and his jacket. Even as warm as he was he couldn’t afford to get sick right now, so he ignored the sweat on his body in favor of pulling the jacket on.

Clipping his keys to a loop on the artfully torn black jeans he’d worn to practice, he scooped up his bag and hauled the studio door open. Sound flooded back to his ears after the quiet inside the studio. A couple of rooms were still in use, at least one he could tell was a floor down and thumping with bass which meant likely one of the dance companies was hard at work. He thought briefly about lingering to watch through one of the doors, but the ache in his spine from an imagined tree hitting it was starting to get to him… plus he needed food. 

He bounced down the stairwell to the main floor of the dance studio building and ambled by the bassline echoing out from the barely closed door he’d heard it from. There was a sharp count being given inside, calling out numbers and positions as he slipped by. Something about the voice tickled the back of his mind, but he shrugged it off as he slung his bag over his shoulder and zipped up his jacket.

Minho didn’t even spare a glance to the long slit of a window built into the door as he went by. He completely missed the figure that was just beyond it, calling directions, long sun-blonde hair hanging in sweating strands against tan cheeks. He certainly didn’t stop long enough to notice blue eyes looking over the other dancers critically. 

No, Minho was positively oblivious as he waved a good night to one of the studio staff in the lobby beyond the practice rooms and headed out into the dimming light. 

\--------

“Okay, all of you get out of here, I don’t want to see your faces here until after break’s over.” 

Hyunjin snorted at the fond remonstration from his teacher as he packed up his books, the class breaking up around him. The holiday break was coming up and, even if he didn’t put too much stock in Thanksgiving, he was at least thankful for the respite from at least one aspect of his busy life. He only had a bit longer to go in his EMT classes before ride-alongs were a thing and he could use the rest before he lost sleep to that. 

A quick glance at his phone told him he still had three hours before the next practice meet-up with his crew. Enough time to maybe find a comfy spot in the campus lounge and crank out a few zzz’s before he busted his ass on the studio floor. There was a major meet coming up just before Christmas and his crew at the company had been working together on a new choreo with a track that one of their members had gotten hold of out of the underground scene. It had a lot of good spots for each of the twelve members to shine in, but they’d all felt like they needed to majorly step up their game. 

His full bag got slung to his back, bouncing heavily against his spine and drawing a soft ‘tch’ from his lips. Hands got shoved into the pockets of his beige cargo pants as he quickly checked that the laces on his boots hadn’t come undone during his fidgeting in class. One last tug on the cream-colored turtleneck to settle its hem about his hips and Hyunjin was trudging towards the classroom door. He swallowed a yawn, not wanting to give away his general fatigue from the day to the rest of his training class. They’d rib him enough about not being able to stay awake on graveyard shifts if he did. 

Glancing up and down the hallway outside the classroom, he tossed a wave to a couple of his classmates and turned to head downstairs where the lounge was. It was far enough into the afternoon that he was pretty certain he could find a chair in a corner and curl up for a bit. He’d done it enough in the past year that it’d become something of a habit. He let a gusty sigh pass his lips and the thought crossed his mind that hopefully this nap would be without one of the really weird dreams he’d been having. He really didn’t need the bags under his eyes to get any deeper, someone was bound to notice if that kept up.

As his feet hit the ground floor, he scanned the entry area briefly, noting the bare crowd and turning his path towards his destination. His lips turned up slightly at one corner as his assumptions came true, finding the lounge deserted and one of his favorite nap spots open and waiting. Flopping down bonelessly in the plush seating, he dropped his bag at his feet and quickly wriggled himself into the oversize rose-colored hoodie that was his current concession to the fall chill outside. It had a deep enough hood that he could pull it down well over his face and cut the ambient light down to perfect nap levels. Shifting a bit until his head was pillowed on the back of the chair, he settled the hood in place, folded his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes. 

It only took a few breaths before he was completely out in his little pocket of comfort. 

_ The clouds above him were soft, fluffy, idyllic tufts of cotton drifting across a blue that almost matched his eyes. The sun was warm on his skin as he watched them pass slowly by, a soft breeze lifting his hair gently from the back of his neck. A bird wheeled by, far overhead, any cry it made lost to the space between them.  _

_ He stood atop a rocky outcropping, the seemingly treacherous path up to his lookout point a faint memory while an even slimmer path wound further up above him. He reached out an arm, clad in soft white bound in criss-crossed brown velvet ribbon, and watched as the swirling wind before him rippled and played with the ends. The wind was gentle, playful, and he smiled to watch it toy with him. It tugged gently at the loose dark brown pants that covered the tops of his feet, only leaving his toes exposed to the kiss of air.  _

_ A bird wheeled by him in the passing space, its cry lost to the distance between them even as his heart soared to watch it turn and dip through its domain. He felt himself long to be up there as well, and for a brief moment he felt as if the very air tried to lift him up off his feet.  _

_ The sensation of a chuckle deep in his chest resonated in windswept silence, no sound otherwise exiting from his lips. Slowly he turned and began his ascent higher up the escarpment in search of a better vantage point. At this height, he still wasn’t quite above the trees and the sky beckoned him to come closer to her azure heights.  _

_ He was focused on the climb itself for a time, fingers and toes picking out the best way up through hard rocks dotted about with greenery trying to cling to a meager existence. He did not notice how the clouds had begun to gather, the soft white of them gradually shifting to a grey-blue shade. The air had begun to take on a smell of dampness. In the distance, there was the faintest of rumbles.  _

_ As he reached another flat space, he paused in his climb and looked back out over the valley below. The trees seemed more like a carpet up here, he thought, green and verdant and almost plush in their depth. He crouched down for a moment, gathering up a loose stone and flinging it off towards the greenery below. Echoes of its plinking downward path echoed back to him before he glanced up and frowned at the growing clouds.  _

_ There was a rush of air at his back as if someone rushed by him and he turned his head sharply, catching a darker flash that seemed to go higher up the path. Why would anyone else be up here? It was too dangerous for anyone else, the thought seemed ludicrous. Especially with the storm that seemed to be gathering intensity. The wind was picking up quickly and was soon whipping his hair against his face, tugging at the collar of his shirt and tugging free the cord that held the key he’d kept against his skin.  _

_ A voice from above seemed to beseech him to hurry and so he climbed higher, fighting to keep his footing as the very air seemed to fight him. Wind tore sharply at him as even the hardiest of greenery gave way to cold, icy rock and thinner air that defied breathing. It was only when he reached the summit that he realized he truly was not alone.  _

_ Facing the swirling storm before them, lightning illuminated the blurry black and white shape before him, outlining the strongly postured figure in bright blue-white. Clutching at an outcropping for stability, he hauled himself to his feet just as the rain began to torrent. Brushing strands of soaked hair from his face, he struggled towards the person before him with one hand outstretched. Whether it was to seek aid or give it, he wasn’t entirely sure at this moment.  _

_ A sharp gust of wind tore like daggers across them both and spun the figure to face him, a flash of lightning mere meters away illuminating a face he knew well. It was his own blue eyes that stared back at him, a mixture of determination and worry on them as a hand reached out to link their fingers. His blonde hair was dragging into his eyes and water cascaded down his features as the rain turned icy. The delicate silk-like shirt in pale yellow clung to his form wetly, no more protection against the weather than the velvet-like leggings beneath them. Bare feet fought for traction on the wet, freezing rock and he crashed to one knee while grabbing his hand.  _

_ Another lightning flash, the thunder echoing like gunshots in his head, and his vision switched. Now he was clutching the hand of another boy with dark, wind-whipped hair and eyes like coffee-colored pools. His own equally brown clothing clung to him in the downpour and his skin was chilled dangerously. He threaded their fingers together tightly as the wind attempted to lift them both free of their mountainside perch. Icy drops clung to them both as the storm raged and raged.  _

_ “I won’t let you go. We’ll get through this, you hear me?” the words spilled from lips turning faintly blue in the chill of the storm. It seemed they had been pinned to the rock by it for an eternity and yet it felt like the barest of breaths had been taken. They clung to each other as the whipping far above them sent fragments of rock raining down on their bowed heads.  _

_ Then came a lightning strike that split them apart, throwing them feet away from each other and putting them at the wind’s mercy. Dazed and with ears ringing, he felt his feet slip on the rock as he tried to get his balance and teetered over the edge of the cliff. He heard the shout from the other boy who scrambled to that very edge to reach him. A faint yellow glow, like soft sunlight, gathered around his hand and streamed out into the storm.  _

_ He felt briefly as his fall into the trees below was halted, a cushion of air seeming to arrest the fall. He could see the shape of the dark-haired boy’s head above him on the cliff, straining against the storm with one arm outstretched. He was looking up just as the determined look in those brown eyes turned to horror and the wind took hold of him.  _

_ It pulled him as if with a mind of its own, thrusting him up into a once-blue sky gone black with fury. It pelted him with icy rain like knives piercing him with daggers. He heard a heart-wrenching scream of failure below him as the storm pulled him higher and higher on unseen currents.  _

_ “NO! HYUNJIN!” _

_ The last thing he saw before breath left him was the roiling black of storm-tossed sky as he was tossed onto his back in the air. The last thing he heard was the howling of the wind around him. The last thing he felt was his own frozen hands at his neck as the very air was ripped from his lungs.  _

There was a hand on his shoulder, but he barely registered as he came rearing up out of the nightmare in full panic mode. One arm swung out and he heard a squeak of pain nearby as he came back to himself in a rush. His hood was flipped back and the lights of the lounge came flooding back into his sight at breakneck speed. 

Heaving breath back into aching lungs, Hyunjin’s eyes swept the area in front of him and landed on the young woman who was perched on the seat next to him. She was currently rubbing at her forearm and giving him a look that was both concerned and affronted. He blinked owlishly at her, lowered his outstretched arm and dragged it through his hair roughly. 

“S-sorry. I didn’t know you were there. Are you hurt?” he asked the woman, a bit of memory slowly reminding him that he was looking at one of the staff from the bookstore across the lobby. Marita, his mind supplied as her name, surfacing a bit further out of nightmare imagery. He gave her a half-hearted smile and licked his lips, finally coming back to himself enough to fully recognize her. 

“Nothing but my pride. You okay there, Jinnie?” Marita offered, rubbing gently at the small red spot on her arm before abandoning the motion altogether. “You know if you’re gonna nap like that, you have a bed that’s prolly more comfy.” She pursed her lips and started to stand, brushing imaginary things off of her pants and setting a hand to her hip. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know… but I needed a few zzz’s before practice tonight and it would’ve taken me too long to get home. So the lounge it was. I’m fine, honest. Just a bad dream, I’ll just walk it off.” Hyunjinsmiled sunnily up at her, hiding his still-pounding heart behind the gaze that invariably worked to set others around him at ease. He’d let the nickname pass for now in the hopes that she’d let him be and head back to her work. 

Marita gave him a disapproving look again and sighed gustily, “Fine. Don’t let me stop you, Sleeping Beauty. Have a good night.” Then she turned and trotted back across the lobby towards the bookstore, glancing only once over her shoulder at him with a less reproachful smile. 

He considered himself lucky to have gotten off without more prodding from the girl and took a few deep breaths. Rubbing at his cheeks, he tried to coax warmth into them as the chill of his vision seemed to linger. As did the burning question of just who that was that he saw.

“He knew my name.” Hyunjin murmured under his breath, sitting up fully in the chair and leaning forward to collect his bag and check his phone. Glancing at the screen, his eyes widened and he leapt up to race out the door. If he didn’t catch the next bus he was going to be late for practice. One thing Hwang Hyunjin never would never be was late for practice. Even if he did have to chase the bus for a block or two before clambering onto it breathlessly. 

He spent the better part of the ride towards the studio mulling over the dream, lining bits and pieces up in his head between it and the ones of the past few months. This one was certainly the most intense to date and finally seeing the figure that had ghosted through the last few made it stand out. He was so in thought that he missed his stop and had to hoof it a few blocks back to the studio. 

He got through the doors to the dance studio with barely minutes to spare, hearing the lively sounds of his crew in their usual room ahead of him. He waved to the lobby staff limply, pausing with his hands on his knees to get a breath and opting to rest his eyes on the floor. The two bouts of running on the heels of not really coming down from his startled awakening were catching up to him a bit and his vision was fuzzing a bit. His hood fell forward over his head to cover his hair as he gulped in air. 

He only barely registered the pair of dark red sneakers that walked up to him at first, only noticing when they stopped and turned when right beside him. A hand came to rest on the small of his back lightly as if to steady him and he heard a soft voice above him. 

“Hey, you okay there, man? Looking a little pale there, you need to sit?” He chuckled under his breath and shook his head in response, straightening his stance and turning his head to look at the owner of the voice with eyes closed at first. Scraping his hair out of his face again, he slowly opened his eyes and felt the world stop dead.

Familiar dark brown eyes looked back up at him from a slight height difference, a look of shock in them that he was certain was mirrored in his own. Dark brown hair was held back from his face by a wide black and white striped headband. He was dressed as if on the way out, a red track jacket thrown over a pale blue t-shirt and charcoal grey sweatpants. The hand remained on his back even as their eyes met and the other boy’s mouth fell ever so slightly open. 

Hyunjin was well aware they were both staring at each other in the middle of the dance studio lobby. He was aware that the staff at the desk were staring at the both of them in confusion. He was also aware of a tingling, almost electric feeling from the hand at his back that sent ripples up and down his spine.

Minho hadn’t seen the blonde hair when he’d come across from the stairs, having seen the other boy come barreling through the studio doors from the outside. All he’d seen was skin gone sheet-white under a tan and the way the guy’s body folded over on itself as he tried to catch his breath. He’d come up to him just to see if he needed a hand or even some water.

Now he was frozen by ocean-colored eyes and soft blonde hair that peeked out from the depths of a surprisingly pink hoodie. One that his hand seemed attached to at the back, fingers feeling as if they were on fire from the contact. Yet he felt no compulsion to pull his hand back at the moment. 

The world seemed to stop at that point, anything around practically ceasing to exist as they searched each other’s faces. They were oblivious to the faint giggles and whispers between a pair of young women at the studio’s front desk as they watched, bets being waged under the counter. 

Hyunjin’s blue eyes blinked slowly and he took in a slow breath, reaching around himself to rest his hand on Minho’s at his back. The touch elicited faint sparks between them and shattered the stillness completely, both of them taking a half-step away from each other. There was a pouting comment from the desk at the motion. 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and Minho angled his head around the taller boy to glare at the pair who squeaked and darted off to the ladies’ room. The spell of the moment was truly broken and they shared an almost companionable look that seemed to wordlessly share ‘Girls, right?’ between them. 

At a call from the studio beyond, Hyunjin’s head snapped away from regarding Minho to call back that he’d be inside shortly. Pushing the hood of his hoodie back, he looked back to the brown-eyed boy and let out a gusty breath in his direction. Minho meanwhile had recovered enough himself to smirk off towards the studio at the call, settling back into an easy lean with his weight on one foot and his arms crossed. 

“You really should get going, would hate to make you late.” Minho quipped, rolling one shoulder to resettle his bag against it. He had questions for this lanky, pink-wearing dancer, but right at the end of his class shift and right before the other’s practice didn’t seem like the best time. 

“Yeah… I’m never late.” came the snappy response from Hyunjin, no real heat behind it as he ruffled his hair and trailed his fingers down to hold his neck. “Have I seen you around here before? You look awfully familiar but I can’t place it.”

“Mmm. I teach upstairs. Lee Minho. I’m in the teacher listing on the board.” Minho gestured to a board with names to one side of the lobby desk that listed the staff. “I swear I’ve seen you before, too. I gather you’re with the crew there and I know they have that room three nights a week.”

“Hwang Hyunjin and yeah, that’s my crew. Busting our asses for the sake of the game.” the blonde replied, smirking back and throwing a toned-down hip-hop pose, framing the eye with the small brown mole with two splayed fingers in a ‘v’ shape. 

Chuckling, Minho stuffed down some of the questions that seemed to pop up in his head now that he had a name. The face before him was too familiar to just have been seen in passing at the studio and he wanted to know more. His stomach decided to pick that time to make itself known and it rumbled loudly in the space between them. The affronted look he gave it garnered a ripple of laughter out of Hyunjin. 

“You were asking me if I’m okay? You should go feed that beast, man. Seriously, before it devours you and the building.” Hyunjin took a half-step towards the practice room and his crew with a tiny bit of reluctance. There was a puzzle standing in front of him with Minho and he wanted to delve into it with enthusiasm he’d not felt since his first week in EMT classes. 

“Shit, yeah, I should. Tank’s almost empty, I think. What about you?” The last was out of Minho’s mouth before he thought about it. Hyunjin had come in off the street as if the hounds of hell were on his tail and, if he was nearly late for practice, he was sure the other dancer probably hadn’t had time to stop for a meal. He was guilty of the same enough times himself. A small part of him hoped the question didn’t come off as creepy as it sounded in his head. 

Oh, it was just the tiniest bit creepy in Hyunjin’s head, but given the situation he was giving ‘creepy’ a wide berth until things got sorted out. He hefted the bag clasped in one hand and shook it gently to produce the sounds of crinkling and a faint sloshing from the water bottle tucked into mesh on the side. 

“I’ve got a protein bar or two in here, and water. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get something after practice. We won’t be long tonight, just an hour so. Just going over some changes to our music and costume ideas.” Hyunjin wondered where his own loose tongue suddenly appeared from. He didn’t prattle about his dance crew to his fellow EMT trainees, why was he gushing to Minho?

“Hmph, then I’ll be back in an hour with something for you. If you’re anything like me, you’ll come out of that practice starving and ready to eat a cow.” Minho said with a snort, fixing the blue-eyed blonde with a look of friendly criticism before headed towards the lobby door. “Take a load off in the lobby until I get back. I… think we have something to talk about and I don’t think it’s dance.”

Hyunjin blinked rapidly at Minho’s retreating back, stunned at the brunette’s statement enough to not have a single word to toss back at him. Only when he was fully out the door to the street did he break out of the spell and give a snort of his own. Muttering something to the effect of ‘Okay, Mom.’ after the other dancer, he turned on his heel and headed into the practice room. The sounds of affectionate ribbing trailed out of the door before he shut it firmly behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Two more chapters to introduce the remaining four SKZ crew. I already have them paired off as the request for pairings wasn't gaining much interest. Next up is Jisung and Chan. ;)
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	4. That Faintly Shining Light Becomes Brighter

_ The ground was warm beneath his feet, sun-warmed and full of life and promise as he looked over the field. Bare toes wriggled against the freshly turned patch before him, finding the faint coolness of moisture as it crumbled over his skin. Crouching down, he adjusted the folded-up cuffs of his blue denim overalls a bit so they didn’t trail in the plowed earth when he walked and brushed a hand with dirty fingernails over the rich darkness in front of him. It was a good field, he thought, it would yield many good things in the time to come.  _

_ Standing up and looking out over the expanse of already farmed ground, he smiled to himself and took a slow breath. It was a good day, a peaceful day, and the clouds ambled across the sky without a care to stop them. The light dappled through them over his shoulders, warming the pale grey cotton of his t-shirt over his skin. The nearby mountains loomed protectively in the distance, their peaks snow-topped and glittering in the afternoon sun. He turned slightly and began to walk the edge of the field, letting his bare feet continue to feel the fresh earth beneath them.  _

_ With the brown of the plowed field to his right, his other hand brushed against the pale grasses that bordered the farmland. Plucking a few seed heads, he rolled them between his fingers as he walked, watching as they broke apart and crumbled slowly as he manipulated them. Most of his attention was on the seeds he held and so it took him a moment to catch the sound of a flock of birds startled from the tree line across the field from him.  _

_ Then a small herd of deer burst from the same tree line, their hooves thudding against the ground as they raced across the fresh earth ahead of him. Their passage brought his head up sharply and he followed their passage for a moment, noting the near-frantic pace at which they ran. Then he turned back towards the spot of forest they came from and jogged in that direction. The expanse of ground he had to cover seemed to blink past him in a blur and then he was at the trees. _

_ The air was still, almost too still for the amount of movement that had just passed through the area. It seemed as if wind itself had chosen to flee the scene and it left the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. One hand stole up to the thin chain around his neck, fishing out the key that had lain beneath his shirt and clutching it idly as he peered into the depths of the trees.  _

_ Something flickered through the branches of a tree up ahead, a black and white form that turned grey as it moved and the shades bled together. It moved from one tree to another fitfully as if being chased and it was definitely coming closer to him.  _

_ And so was a rumbling that was beginning to grow beneath his feet. A thunderous crack sounded in this distance beyond him and he turned his head with what seemed agonizing slowness to regard the distant mountains. The sight meeting his eyes sent a cold stone of dread dropping into his stomach and he took a half-step back.  _

_ The tallest mountain, majestic in its snow-capped glory, visibly tore in half under his gaze. It seemed as if something had split it down the middle and was pushing the two pieces apart like an axe would a log for firewood. Rock, snow, and other debris was being flung away from the sundered mountain at an inconceivable pace. _

_ And the tear was spreading down the mountain and into the land before him. A yawning, gaping chasm into an immeasurable darkness.  _

_ A hand grabbed his elbow and pulled hard just as another reached out and smacked into the side of his face, turning him to face the figure he’d seen in the trees mere heartbeats before. As if the mountain hadn’t stopped his heart by itself, the sight before him nearly finished the deed. _

_ His own dark eyes, filled with fear and desperation, stared back at him imploringly beneath equally dark upswept hair that sparkled with a prism-like array of colors. The overalls he was wearing were undone at one shoulder, but it still was as if he was looking into a mirror. Then the eyes dropped from his face and craned around him and gave a wordless shout of terror before pulling on his arm.  _

_ His eyes blinked closed for a moment as he turned his head back towards the mountain, the ground beneath him lurching violently. He wasn’t sure if it was the earth itself revolting or his own senses, but when he opened his eyes again he got some of his answer. His perspective on the situation had definitely changed. _

_ His hands had latched onto the slightly taller form of a pale-skinned boy with short-cropped hair colored a brilliant crimson above his ears, the lower portion as dark as his own. The head turned to regard him with soft grey eyes, the warm light in them trying to put him somewhat at ease despite the faint shadows that lurked beneath them. A white cotton tank top fit closely to him, not hiding the bare arm that his hands rested on, nor the other that crossed his body to clasp those hands reassuringly. Grey sweatpants with a black and white stripe left feet bare in the turned earth that dug their toes in, preparing to make a stand.  _

_ “Go. Run. I’ll give you a head start, I’ll be right behind you.” the accented voice and a resigned smile accompanied the soft touch of the young man’s hand. “Go. Please. Now.” Then both hands pulled his free, turned him around, and gave him a gentle shove in the small of his back. He glanced over his shoulder to see the nameless figure turn back to the unfathomable crack in the earth that seemed to be racing towards them. He stumbled half a step from the push and paused just long enough that the boy looked over his shoulder and shouted more firmly at him, a deep green glow forming on outstretched hands. _

_ “JISUNG! JUST GO!  _

_ There was something to shout that spurred at him and he took off running. He hated running, but his bare feet pounded across the landscape with every ounce of strength he could summon. He didn’t look behind him, he didn’t dare, he was too afraid. If he did he might have seen the strong form pouring energy in shades of green into the ground at his feet and into the growing rent, trying to pull the edges of it together like a needle and thread.  _

_ He would’ve seen when the figure fell to its knees before disappearing into the darkness. He would’ve seen the edge of the fissure as it caught up to his own feet.  _

_ Instead he felt the ground crumble beneath him and his hands scrabbled for disappearing purchase on the grass around him. He felt the once-gentle seed heads tear through his fingers before his grip slipped and he fell backwards into the abyss. He felt a scream tear from his throat as he fell for what felt like forever.  _

_ He watched as the sky above him disappeared as the ground knit itself back together and plunged him into infinite darkness.  _

Jisung hit the floor with a thump, blanket tangled around his legs, gasping for breath and eyes wide in the darkness. His hands splayed out against the worn carpet beneath him, fingers scrabbling weakly at the fibers of it until his brain registered that he wasn’t grabbing at grass anymore. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment and a groaned line of swears trickled out of his lips. 

The mountain dream again. It was, in his mind, the more frightening one out of all the ones he’d been experiencing. Close behind was the wind and storm dream, both because the sensation of falling that accompanied them was always jarring to wake out of. Half the time he ended up falling in reality when that happened, so it was good he’d taken to falling asleep on low places. 

Pulling his hand back to his face, he rubbed the sweat off of it and covered his eyes. Not that it mattered in the dark of the room he’d crashed in this time. The hostel was dark and it was a rarity in that he got a bed to himself in a closed space. Usually hostels meant open rooms with a bunch of beds and no privacy. Made for grumpy short-term roommates if one of these nightmares woke up him screaming. 

The images from this last dream flashed behind his eyelids for a few moments, his vivid imagination picking out highlights that he didn’t catch at first. The red hair and gentle eyes of the boy he saw tonight stuck hardest and he felt his subconscious drawing on that strength as he started to sit up on the floor. One hand still covered his eyes as the other picked the blanket off of his legs, freeing them in case he wanted to stand up. 

Jisung mused internally that this red-haired boy knew his name. His given name, not his family name he gave when meeting random people OR the name he gave when spitting bars at events.. The singular name that he only gave away to those he felt were worthy of seeing behind the cocky demeanor that was his daily mask. The boy had spoken to him as if he were a lifelong friend, as if they’d already been through some nameless hell and back and were tied together through it. 

Or perhaps that was his imagination building stories again. He could feel the tickling strings of his creative process starting to sing at the back of his head. While they meant he lost a lot of sleep, the past several months worth of dreams and nightmares had given him some fantastic inspiration. His backpack, slouched at the side of the creaky metal-framed bed, held several notebooks worth of lyrics that he’d written after one dream or another. Most of them never saw the light of day, but he kept them close by nonetheless. 

Leaning back a bit from his spot on the floor, he reached blindly in the dark for the tiny blue dot that told him where his phone was in the dark. Thumbing the button to wake it, he squinted for a moment as the glow of it lit up the small bedroom and showed him the time. 4:30AM it read, and he groaned under his breath before swiping to unlock the screen and check his messages. 

He’d gotten in late from scouting out a show across town, checking leads on what the pulse of this city’s underground scene was like. He knew it was bound to be different from his hometown simply by the virtue of being about four to five times larger than where he grew up. Soaring towers of steel and concrete don’t often hold the same thrum of life that a smaller island town would. Jisung wanted to go places with his creativity and home didn’t really afford him that. 

So here he was, half a year into his great adventure. Living off a year of savings and trying to make it in the big city. Every day was a challenge, but life wasn’t supposed to be easy, was it? He told himself that daily as he wore miles into his sneakers and pinched pennies to fill his belly. Ghosting through the smaller-time music shops looking for billboards about events, scrounging time at internet cafes to check online as well. Occasionally he got lucky and got into an event early enough to get a stab at letting his tongue and his sharp mind do the work. Occasionally he even came out of it paid. 

Jisung sat there on the floor, pulling the blanket around his shoulders and leaning against the bed as he went over his messages. One or two from his parents, checking in to make sure he hadn’t dropped off of the face of the earth. Some from friends back home, keeping him up on things around his hometown. A larger handful were from folks he’d met here in the city, the ones he’d bothered to trade numbers with for a chance into other things. 

As he was thumbing idly, eyes drooping slightly with fatigue, when a message popped up that made him pause. It wasn’t a number he was familiar with but it seemed to be local from what he’d gathered of city numbers. A few people he’d run into in the underground scene had enthusiastically mentioned sharing his performances with their own friends. It was awfully early in the morning for a random fan-like message. 

_ ‘Hey, is this J.One Got your deets from K.Rule after the show at Steele Cage last night. I caught your rhymes and got hooked. Up for a collab? DM me back when you’re up and moving. CB97 (two-fingered peace sign emoji)’ _

Jisung stared at his phone for several minutes. This wasn’t just a fan, the language was all wrong. He’d had a couple of fan messages and they were rarely so abrupt yet open. He tilted his head to one side thoughtfully, holding air in his mouth until his cheeks puffed up like a squirrel before he gustily exhaled. He’d heard the name at an event or two but he’d never met the face behind the moniker. He’d be lying if anyone asked him to deny if he’d heard the other’s music, either. Those who spoke of him relayed that he was a rapper as well, but also had his fingers in producing. It wasn’t certain if he was part of a company or an indie producer, but he was known by name at least. 

_ ‘Yo, thanks for the DM. Yeah, this is J.One, how’s it goin’? Heard your stuff around the scene. Good beats, good bars, would def be down to collab. Got a time in mind to meet?’ _ Chewing on his lip, his thumbs hovered over the keyboard of his phone hesitantly. He was awake, he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon. Why not answer this faceless name and see where it leads? Fortune favors the bold and all that, right? He pressed send on the message and set his phone down, not expecting an answer back at this hour. Jisung rested his head against the old foam mattress on the bed and closed his sore eyes, fighting the urge to rub at them with one hand. 

The vibration of his phone against the floor startled him out of a half-doze about five minutes later. Snapping his head up, he grabbed for it and held the glowing screen up to his eyes. The message he read had his dark brown eyes widening before he tossed the phone on the bed and started hauling his clothes and shoes on. 

_ ‘Another night owl like me, huh? I dig it. How about breakfast on me and we can chat? You know where the diner is on 15th and Grayson? Meet me there.’  _

He’d never gotten dressed so quickly in his life, even if it was the same pair of clothes he’d worn out that night. It was dark enough that he just barely managed to make sure that most of the clothing was on the right way, socks barely on his feet before he jammed them into his boots. He was glad he knew how to speed-lace those in the dark. 

Grabbing his bag, he chucked a few extra things into it and snagged his small duffel with his remaining clothes out of the small closet. He hadn’t been travelling with much over the past few months, just enough to get by. He’d worry about where to sleep again later tonight, he had more pressing things on his mind. 

Jisung tugged his favorite black beanie down over his bed-head and shrugged into his worn grey denim jacket before pulling up his phone to send CB97 a reply. Hitting send as he opened the bedroom door, he managed to get downstairs and out the door of the hostel without waking anyone else. 

_ ‘On my way! Be there in 20!’ _

\-------

Fingers drummed against the plastic of the diner menu in front of him as Chan stared almost lazily out the window at the drizzle of rain wetting the street. The tapping of his fingers belied an undercurrent of nervousness that was schooled out of his expression as he waited. This was more than just a ‘business’ sort of meeting he was getting himself into and a nervousness he’d not had in years thrummed under his skin. 

There’s been a number of points over the last year or two where he’d run into a talented artist or two at the underground events around the city. Sometimes he managed to be charismatic enough to convince them to come lay tracks at his company’s studio, agree to a little promo time, and get them some hooks into the industry that sent them further up the line. It was what he did as an intern, ground-pounding work that played off his youth and his own musical talents to find similar people. He also got a great chance to add his voice to collaborations with some of them if he was lucky enough.

He’d realized as he slid into the booth that he had no idea what this mystery rapper he was meeting looked like. He was going off of what amounted to a hunch based on a voice from the show last night. The crowd had been too thick for him to get too close to the stage area, he’d had to be content with a distant glimpse of a slender figure in a denim jacket over a black hoodie. Too far way for details… but close enough for the voice to cut through to him like a knife. 

The voice had latched onto something in his psyche and he’d been unable to shake it for hours afterwards. Not that he slept much as it was, but it hadn’t fully clicked for him until he’d been stretched out on his couch and staring up at the ceiling. He’d heard that same voice in the fiery nightmare he’d had the night before. 

A noise to his side had Chan turning his head to regard the chipper-looking waitress, a sympathetic smile on her face and order pad in hand. He gave her a tired smile, accentuated by the ever-present shadows beneath his grey eyes, and quietly requested a cup of coffee and that he was still waiting for someone. He watched her bustle off to the coffee station at the far end of the counter and looked back out at the rain which had begun to pick up in strength. He hoped the person he was meeting wasn’t going to get too soaked in it. 

As he watched the raindrops slide down the diner window, his mind wandered back to that nightmare as if wanting to fix the voice in his head further. His eyes unfocused a bit and he propped his chin on one hand, barely noticing when the waitress returned with coffee and a small bowl with cups of creamer. 

_ He was sitting at a desk in a small room, a window to his right opening onto a sunny expanse of lavender-tinted greenery, the edges bordered in the distance with low trees. A door to his left was left open just a tiny amount, a bit of light filtering in from what might have been a hallway outside. The daylight coming through the window lit the otherwise bare room, everything inside easy to see.  _

_ A blank sheet of paper and a pencil rested on the desk in front of him, and his hands were loosely folded atop the edge of it. Was he going to write something? Had he already written something and just couldn’t read it? It didn’t seem important. The thumb of one hand toyed slightly with the frayed cuff of the tan sweater that covered his forearms. The other slid off the table into his lap to brush at the rust-colored corduroy covering his legs.  _

_ He could hear a faint crackling from beyond the slightly open door, even and measured and with the very faint scent of woodsmoke with it. Rising from the desk and leaving the paper and pencil abandoned, he moved towards the door, pulling it towards him and hearing the faint creak of the hinge. His bare feet made soft noises on the worn wood floor as he stepped out of the small room.  _

_ The space beyond was almost as bare as the room he’d come from, but a couple of things stood out at first glance. There was a blanket and a few pillows laid on the floor in the middle of the room. It was simple and square, painted white, nothing on the walls and no obvious exits to any other space. There was a door that seemed to lead to the outside and a couple of windows opposite where he entered.  _

_ The biggest feature was the grey stone fireplace on the wall to his right, seeming to take up a good portion of that wall in a room that wasn’t terribly much bigger than it was. He estimated maybe the hearth was about 3-4 feet across with a foot to either side. It was an oddly analytical thing in the dreamscape, but it stuck with him. Otherwise the room was quiet outside of the soft crackle of the large fire burning merrily away.  _

_ Crossing to the blankets and pillows, he sank down onto them with a sigh and stretched out, tucking a pillow beneath his head and watching the flames lick at the dark insides of the fireplace. The sway of them was almost hypnotic and lulled him into a sense of security and warmth as he laid there. His eyes drooped slightly and his breathing slowed, the warmth seeming to grow beside him… and around him.  _

_ Then there were hands shaking him, and the gentle warmth had become oppressive. Blinking rapidly, he came awake suddenly to an orange and red glow that was no longer limited to its stone confines. Flames had travelled up the front of the fireplace, turning once-white walls an ashen black as the began to spread across the ceiling. The door beyond him, presumably to the lavender fields outside, was open slightly and the smoke from the room billowed outside. The fire was quickly spreading, licking along the walls as if guided by an unseen hand.  _

_ His shoulder was shaken again and he whipped his head around to catch a black and white figure crouched beside him, feeling the impact of it shouting at him. He blinked again, eyes watering from the intense smoke, and forced the figure to come into focus.  _

_ Red-orange light flickered across his own face, turned his grey eyes and eerie shade of amber, and the heat of flames lifted the edges of his own scarlet hair dangerously. His distressed sweater was tinged with ash and singed in places, and the bare feet beneath his corduroys were equally ashen. Hands pulled at his shoulder again and tried to pull him up to his feet. It was a mere breath before the flames had surrounded them both.  _

_ He got to his feet with a stumble, the room spinning for a moment beneath him in a blaze of orange, yellow, and red. His eyes whited out in the heat for a moment, tears spilling down his cheeks from the force of it. When he opened them again, it wasn’t immediately certain if the heat or what he saw stole his breath more.  _

_ He’d traded places with where he’d been before, except now he was looking down just slightly at another boy. Dark brown hair reflected with a faint prism of rainbow colors, the fire colors in it almost drowning out the cooler tones amidst the inferno. Coffee-dark eyes reflected the fire back at him, a faint ember-like glow lurking in their depths.  _

_ Hands half-hidden in the sleeves of an oversized grey and white plaid shirt came up to touch his shoulders gently, a rueful half-smile on his face. The whole room was ablaze and it colored the oversized shirt and white tee beneath it in fiery glow, light glinting off the small metal studs in his black jeans. One hand pulled away and reached towards the fire, outlined in a glow that shifted from red to orange.  _

_ “I’ll try and stop it, Chan… but we may be too late. I’m sorry.” Came the voice that half-shouted over the fire’s roar even as thin strings of energy flowed out towards the flames. He felt himself coughing at the smoke, saw the boy trying to control the fire coughing as well, the smoke around thick, black, and suffocating.  _

_ It drove him to one knee and he reached out his hands to grab at the boy’s pants, choking on the smoke and eyes watering. He hissed under his breath as his skin began to overheat, stinging and blistering as the flames reached out to him. The key he wore around his neck heated to burning against his skin, barely an afterthought in the moment. The flames dimmed briefly, giving them each a brief respite… but it didn’t last nearly long enough.  _

_ There was a feeling of a snap and a lurch and the fire doubled, driving them into each other defensively. He wasn’t sure if he was screaming or the boy he clung to was screaming, but all that they could feel was the white-hot agony of burning as the room dissolved in flames. He squeezed his eyes shut against the light of it, tears no longer able to make a path down his face in the stinging heat. _

_ “I… I’m so sorry. Forgive me..” came the almost whisper in his ear as arms surrounded him, clinging tightly as a head burrowed against his neck. It was the last thing he heard before the creaking of destroyed wood sounded above them and the ceiling came down on them and ushered them into darkness.  _

Chan came out of his brief reverie with a sharp intake of breath, blinking rapidly and glancing down to the still-warm cup of coffee by his left hand. If that nightmare was even a hint of what it was actually like to be burned alive, he never wanted to actually experience it. The images in his head were bad enough as they still lingered a day later. 

Curling his fingers around the warm ceramic cup, he pulled it towards him and let the gentler heat sink into slightly chilled fingertips. Some sugar and a couple of creamer cups got dumped into the cup before he glanced at his phone for the time. His intended meetup had said he’d be about twenty minutes in his message, but the rain was pretty intense so he’d give him a pass for being a bit behind. As it was the diner was otherwise empty and the waitress was bustling about doing a bit of cleaning while keeping an eye on his table. 

He almost missed the darting figure skirting along the outside edge of the diner, trying to stay under the awning of it to keep from being too rain-spattered. Then the door to the diner popped open and the figure resolved to a black beanie, a worn denim jacket closed tight over a black hoodie, a canary yellow t-shirt just visible at the neck, and tightly-fitted pants in a red, black, and yellow plaid. A backpack was slung over one shoulder and a duffel was clutched in the other hand as he shook off a bit of the rain and started to look around. 

Their eyes met across the diner and Chan was certain in that moment that he was looking at the right person. The lightning-strike of recognition sparked in both of their eyes and he saw the dark-eyed boy’s mouth turn up slightly at one corner at the same time. The only thing missing from his remembered image was the rainbow colored hair, but the beanie tugged tightly on the other’s head covered it up well. 

Chan waved briefly at the waitress and smiled, relaying that this was the person he’d been waiting for and to give them a few minutes. Meanwhile the other boy hefted his duffel in his hand and moved towards the booth, shoving his gear between himself and the window before sliding in. A smile was quirked in Chan’s direction before a hand came across the table without any hesitation. 

“So. You must be CB97, since you’re the only one here at this hour of the night? Morning?” Jisung quipped back, tugging his beanie off to reveal the very last thing Chan had been looking for. Spread throughout the boy’s hair were jewel-tone patches of just about every color of the rainbow. It was rather striking against his lightly tan skin and dark eyes. The smile he gave back made his cheeks puff out and he did rather look like a squirrel. 

Jisung kept his hand extended until the red-haired boy across the table from him let go of the coffee cup in his grasp and reached out in kind. Despite the jolt to his system when he walked in and met eyes he’d seen so many times in his dreams, he was unprepared for the contact with the other’s very warm hand. An electric sort of chill ran up his arm when their hands clasped, causing him to shiver involuntarily and he noted the other boy’s grey eyes widening at the same time. A black hoodie not unlike his own seemed to envelop the other boy save for his hand, at least from what he could see with the other seated.

Nothing seemed to move for a breath or two as they looked across the table at each other, each searching the other’s face for all the little things that kindled an aching familiarity. For Jisung, the memory was still very fresh and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining the kindness behind the grey eyes that met him. 

On Chan’s side, he was trying to erase the remembered resignation from the brown eyes he gazed into, still seeing a mirror of fire in them. The tingling contact of their hands was like a thrum under his skin that was definitely more than just nerves. There was an added feeling to the contact that he could only describe as feeling like a piece in a puzzle slid into place. It was as if a space inside him was suddenly a little bit less empty. 

The pair were broken out of their frozen moment by the arrival of the waitress at the side of their table, their hands breaking apart reluctantly and each responding to her patient smile with a sheepish look of their own. There was a brief exchange while food was ordered before she bustled away, leaving them to lapse into a comfortable sort of silence for a moment. 

“Well. That was something.” Jisung spoke up first, his voice much quieter than the very forward tone he’d taken before reaching for Chan’s hand. His fingers fidgeted with his beanie, eyes dropping to the dark fabric for a moment and then flicking back up through his lashes. “Name’s Jisung, by the way. Han Jisung. Though most get to know me as Han… or J.One.” 

The duality of the boy’s demeanor wasn’t lost on Chan at all. The brief contact in them seemed almost like flipping a switch and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to know more about why. He took in the offering of a name around a sip of coffee before setting the cup down and curling his hands around it again. 

“Nice to put a name to a face. In more ways than one. Christopher Bang… Bang Chan or Chan to most, CB97 in the scene.” Chan offered in return, leaning forward a bit to rest his elbows on the table between them. He could see that Jisung was tired, still had a bit of whatever sleep he’d gotten clinging a bit to his eyes and the messy ruffle of his hair. “Heard you at the show last night. You’re really damn good. Asked one of the promoters for your contact afterwards, didn’t expect you to get back to me so fast.”

“Yeah, well… I was awake. Didn’t expect to be, but I was. I had… stuff going on. Guess I was still show-wired or something.” Jisung’s demeanor had perked up slightly at the small bit of praise, teeth showing as he grinned back and rubbed briefly at one eye. The other hand gestured back and forth between the two of them quickly with his next words. “Though… I think this is less of a ‘you think I’m good’ and ‘let’s collab’ meeting at this point, am I right? You felt that?”

“Not gonna lie, I did. Then again I knew something was up at the show last night. Your voice was too familiar even though I couldn’t see your face.” Fingers toyed with the rim of Chan’s cup and he glanced down into the cream-lightened brown of it for a moment. One side of his mouth quirked, revealing the dimple there as he watched the slight swirl of his coffee. “I think at this point I’d know that voice anywhere, you know what I mean?”

Jisung’s fingers stilled on his beanie, catching the slight upward glance the red-haired boy gave him with that slight smile. The familiarity behind it softened some of the nerves he was feeling over this meeting and the last few minutes. He couldn’t entirely put a finger on the atmosphere that had settled over their table, but it at least felt safe and comfortable. Something he’d not experienced much since rolling into the city a few months ago. 

“Yours, too. It’s like I’ve known you forever but this is the first time I’ve ever met you.” He paused before saying more as the waitress arrived with their meals, setting a plate of pancakes and eggs in front of Chan and french toast and eggs in front of Jisung. The pair thanked her with smiles and quiet words before turning back to their seemingly casual discussion. The waitress drifted away and out of earshot and Jisung picked briefly at the wrapped silverware she’d set down. 

“So I guess you’ve been having dreams, too?” 

Chan folded his own napkin to one side and raised an eyebrow across the table at the other boy. “Dreams, nightmares, sometimes they bleed from one to the other. Makes it kinda hard to sleep when you’re not sure if you’re going to have something normal… or one of  _ those _ .” he muttered the last and shook his head, settling lazily into his food. “Awfully heavy discussion for breakfast, but we can get there. How about you tell me a bit about you before we start picking each other’s heads apart, eh?”

The soft chuckle from Jisung was his answer along with the clink of silver as he went after his own plate. They spent the better part of the next couple of hours learning bits and pieces about each other, stealing food from each other like old friends, and actually getting into a heated debate over rap styles and industry influence. Eventually the plates were empty and they got a reasonably friendly boot out of the diner from the waitress to make way for the actual breakfast crowd. 

The rain had since let up while they were talking and they stood outside the diner in a surprisingly companionable silence. Chan stretched his arms over his head and looked to his right where Jisung stood, looking up the street towards one of the bus stops. He’d learned the boy was about three years his junior and it kicked some odd protective urge when he’d learned Jisung was effectively homeless to boot. 

“Hey, I’m thinking of heading into the studio a bit early, care to tag and ‘see where the magic happens’ for a bit? Take a day off from what you usually do?”

Jisung’s head turned quickly enough that Chan was surprised his newly-resettled beanie didn’t fly off with the passage of wind in its wake. His expression was enough of an answer, eyes bright and wide as he grinned at his new friend. “Seriously? That’d be awesome. Sure beats a day walking from one end of the city to the other, hell of a lot easier on my feet.”

Chan laughed and angled his head in the opposite direction of the bus stop. “C’mon then. I’ll give you a tour. Think we even have a reasonably comfy couch in there somewhere.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome, they let me know how I'm doing. :) 
> 
> The second half of this chapter was very hard for me to write. I have a VERY active imagination and coming up with being trapped in a fire with no way out was frankly terrifying. 
> 
> One more pair left to go: Changbin and Jeongin. I actually swapped intended pairings at the last moment because something didn't sit right with two C's and two J's in individual chapters. :) Two more dreams to write!
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	5. Trapped In Confusion, I Still Don’t Know Myself

The night was cold, sharply so, and it ate through the few layers of clothing that Jeongin had managed to scrounge up this week. The weather was only bound to get colder as winter approached and his experience last winter was not one he wanted to repeat. He knew he needed to find somewhere safe to be before the snow fell. Safe was something he hadn’t had a working comprehension of in a very long time. 

Ducking into an alley, he put his back to the brick wall on one side and carefully slid into a crouch. He carefully cradled a slightly steaming cup of hot cocoa in one hand and a paper bag in the other. Jeongin was lucky tonight, he’d managed to puppy-eye a drink and a sandwich out of a bakery up the street before they closed for the night. Sometimes looking like more of a baby than he actually was worked in his favor. It sure beat fishing in dumpsters or trying to find a spot at a shelter for the night. The worn backpack sitting between his feet held everything that was his, not that it was much, but he’d gotten used to carrying his world on his back in the last year. 

Sipping the cocoa delicately, he glanced out onto the street and watched the cars pass by, headlights streaming past beneath the streetlights. A year and a half he’d been out here on his own, abandoning what could only loosely have been called home after he got out of high school. Enough time to put a life behind him that he honestly would much rather forget. 

Digging in the paper bag with one hand, he pulled the still-warm sandwich free and set the cocoa down long enough to unwrap a corner. He took small bites, wanting to make the rare treat of a good hot meal last as long as possible before getting moving again. Jeongin was always moving, going from place to place without any real plan for where he was going to end up. There’d been some close calls, situations he would never have thought himself to ever get caught in, but somehow he was surviving. 

He tried not to dwell on things too much as he ate, focusing more on the flavors going past his tongue and the gradually full feeling in his stomach. Glancing back out the mouth of the alley, he gauged that he was just far enough in that he could get away with resting here for longer. It had been a long day and his legs and feet were more tired than usual. 

Draining the last of his cocoa, he carefully balled up the bits of trash as small as he possibly could tucked them into the top of his bag for now. There was a beaten-up steel dumpster in the alley and he shifted position a bit to lean against it, still crouching. He could spare a bit of a nap here, he thought, pulling the doubled-up weight of two hoodies close around his body and tucking the hood around his head to shade his eyes from the light. 

It took him precious little time to nod off in this nook of relative safety.

_ Bare feet padded lightly across flagstone paths as he walked the maze of greenery before him. The walls stretched far over his head, the blue half-light of an early evening dulling the boundary between light and shadow along the path. The very faint light that peaked from between the dark walls of greenery did little to heighten the contrast.  _

_ Fingers reached out to brush the dark green leaves, rustling them gently and making the light within them flicker slightly. The sleeves of his deep blue turtleneck bunched slightly around his wrist, leaving the light tan of his hands bare as reached out. His eyes, cast downward to look at the leaves, just barely caught the fabric of his soft black pants as the cuffs pooled over his feet. He could feel the soft bounce of the key around his neck as he walked, but it wasn’t any real distraction.  _

_ The maze was still and quiet, the walls of it too high to allow much of a breeze to pass through. It was almost too still, his own breathing seemed to be too loud in the empty space. Only the sound of his feet on the path came to reach his ears above the sound of his own heartbeat. He didn’t immediately notice how the sky above him was slowly darkening, continuing to wander aimlessly.  _

_ Only when the light in the maze walls began to cast the path in shadowy corners did he look up, the rose-glow of sunset slowly giving way to the darker indigo of night. The sky was starless, moonless, an inky expanse that seemed to merge with the dimmer edges of his path. He felt his lips curl up in a welcoming smile and he glanced behind him briefly, looking at the way he’d come before turning back.  _

_ The quietness of the air was interrupted slowly, a faint, wordless whispering trickling through the air like a faintly heard stream. His head tilted towards it, the pace of his feet picking up as he moved towards it. As he rounded corners in the maze, the susurration of sound became stronger even as it never raised above its whisper-like state. At one point he made a turn and caught movement behind him from the corner of his eye. It gave him a brief pause to wonder why he was suddenly no longer alone, but the sounds beckoned him onwards.  _

_ His hand stole briefly to the key about his neck, palming the cool metal as if seeking to ground himself with it. His head craned around the next corner, feeling almost certain he had reached the source of the whispering, eyes looking up and ahead of him inquisitively. He had taken a half step forward with his left foot when he felt a tugging sensation on his right leg.  _

_ Glancing down, he first noticed a single vine-like tendril of shadow black that had begun to loosely curl about his ankle. It toyed with the leg of his pants briefly, almost playfully, before it began a slow and snake-like tightening. It wasn’t particularly painful, but it was very cold, sending a chill up his leg and effectively pinning him to the spot. As he stared at the tendril, another snaked out from the shadows and crawled further up his leg, stopping around his knee.  _

_ He shivered involuntarily at the sensation and licked his lips, moving his other leg forward a bit and tugging on the shadowy grip. In response, both tendrils clenched at his leg hard enough to bruise… and began pulling him forward into the maze section ahead of him. He struggled against them, the chill seeping through the fabric of his pants like ice held against bare skin, but could gain no ground back as he was pulled towards darker shadows.  _

_ More tendrils snaked out of the darkness as he neared it, reaching out to grab his other leg and his arms, tightening with a vise-like grip around his limbs. His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to get free and his head whipped around, feeling his voice cry out for aid. He caught movement at his periphery and his eyes widened briefly.  _

_ Then a warm hand landed on his shoulder, another coming to his waist, and a pull began in the opposite direction of the shadow. He turned his head and blinked rapidly until the blurry black and white figure, almost seeming shadow itself, resolved before him and stole his breath completely. _

_ His own grey-blue eyes stared back at him with no small amount of fear shadowing them, their already fox-like shape wide and sharp. His deep blue hair had fallen into his eyes and was tousled as if he’d been running, almost as dark in this light as the shadows. His hands worked to try and pull him free of the shadows’ grasp, but there wasn’t enough strength in them to match the darkness. The hand on his shoulder lifted and reached past him to try and tug a tendril free, blocking his vision just as the world spun around him with a lurch.  _

_ When his vision righted itself, he found himself standing close behind another boy, his own hair a contrast in light and dark. Shaded to a silvery blue with one side undercut, the rest of it fell over shadow-dark eyes that looked back at him with a fiery determination in the maze-wall light. An otherwise gentle mouth was set in a firm line above a sharply angled chin. Their eyes met and the sharp look softened briefly in reassurance before he refocused on the shadows before them.  _

_ With great effort, the boy in front of him raised one arm, the white button-up shirt he wore flapping an unbuttoned cuff at the end. It was harder to see where the tendrils were at his legs given the worn black jeans that he wore, but he knew they were there. They tugged at the boy and tried to pull him forward even as the raised hand seemed to glow with its own shadow.  _

_ He pulled on the other boy as hard as he could, the shorter frame of the other seeming easier to grab as he wrapped his arms around it. As the darkness poured from the boy’s hands, the whispering sound he’d been hearing almost seemed to breathily scream at them and recoil. One or two of the tendrils let go and they gained an inch or two backwards as a result.  _

_ “Go. Leave me. I can only keep them back for so long, you know that. GO!” came the boy’s raspy voice, murmured tersely over his shoulder, a hint of desperation creeping into it. The darkness at the other end of the maze path seemed to pulse and writhe, threatening to bulge out of the confines of greenery.  _

_ He reluctantly let go of the silver-haired boy, taking a few steps back and gulping for breath. He stared at the shadows for just a little too long, though, and the still-bound figure barked at him sharply.  _

_ “JEONGIN! GO, DAMN IT! RUN!” _

_ At that he turned and ran, feet slapping against the flagstone as the shadows screeched behind him. He didn’t dare to look back, the chill of the darkness and the boy he’d left behind were reason enough to put as much distance between them as possible. So he didn’t see the smaller boy turn back to the shadows, raise both hands, and attempt to make the darkness answer him and hold back. The screeches turned into a multi-tonal wail that tore at his ears as he ran, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.  _

_ He was so focused on getting away that the roar of the darkness was muted by the roar in his ears, he didn’t feel the chill expand behind him until icy cold plucked at his arms. Then something grabbed at his ankle and he tripped, slamming face-first into the now-freezing path and losing all of his breath. Before he could even start to scream, he was yanked backwards at an incredible speed. He glanced behind him only to see a gaping maw of darkness, whips of shadow coiling around his limbs before it consumed him.  _

_ Then there was nothing.  _

The nightmare dissolved abruptly and he shuddered hard against the dumpster, dimly aware that there was someone bending over him. A firm, warm hand was on his shoulder shaking it gently, and a concerned voice was drifting down at him. The mixed sensations felt like they were coming to him down a tunnel and he blinked owlishly, staring straight ahead for a minute. He faintly heard a sharper note entering the voice that hovered over him and the fingers on his shoulder tightened. 

“Hey, kid? You with me here? You okay?”

Jeongin carefully pushed his hood back with one hand and glanced up. The sight meeting his eyes made his stomach drop out from beneath him. 

\-------

It was a good thing his couch was comfortable, the TV in front of him on a low volume and notebooks spread across the coffee table next to him. It lulled Changbin into a doze that came surprisingly easily tonight. It’d been a long day at the store, made longer by the past couple of late nights spent at shows on the underground circuit. He’d come home yawning, made a quick meal out of a cup of noodles, and settled down to try and get some new material written. 

The fatigue of the last several months caught up to him quickly, though, and he’d tipped sideways onto the thick couch pillows after only an hour of scribbling on the open pages. A random late-night infomercial scrolled across the screen across from him, painting him in glaring LED light as his eyes moved fitfully behind his eyelids. 

_ The night sky was full of stars, twinkling and shimmering in their velvet blanket above him. He lay on his back in the grass, feeling the soft blades of it tickle his skin lightly as his eyes scanned the constellations. One knee was bent, the other leg stretched out before him, and his hands were folded loosely over his stomach. The evening was peaceful and calm, the lightest of breezes making the grass ripple occasionally.  _

_ Lifting one hand up towards the stars, the sleeve of his oversized grey sweater slid slightly down his arm. Splaying long fingers, he traced a shape or two in the glittering heavens above him and smiled. His free hand idly played with the texture of the sweater, outlining the shape of the key around his neck that lay against the skin of his chest.  _

_ After a while of stargazing, he lazily sat up and hooked his hands around his black denim-clad knees to look out over the grassy plain around him. A rustle of nearby trees in the wind was the only sound to reach his ears. The darkness was comforting in its own way, he knew this landscape well and it was soothing. He could walk in any direction and never lose his way, his eyes could always pick out the details in the dark as if it was daylight. _

_ His eyes had just begun to glance up towards the sky again when a different rustling sound came from behind him. This wasn’t the soft ripple of the trees, instead it was the somewhat harsher sound of something purposefully moving through them. It grew louder and louder until he realized that it was heading towards him. He rolled to his feet to get a better vantage point and angled his vision towards the sound as his pulse picked up.  _

_ Whatever was coming was large, that was for certain. Nothing small could make quite that much noise. His bare feet shifted against the grass hesitantly, one moving in front of the other in an unconscious preparation to move. His mind was telling him that it was probably just one of the nocturnal animals in his forest, but a deeper part of him admitted that none of them would move that noisily.  _

_ From the darkness ahead of him came a growl. Deep, throaty, a mix of something feline and something decidedly primal, and directed towards him. He peered into the darkness, one foot shifting behind him and posture tensing. This wasn’t a regular animal and he knew it.  _

_ His eyes met a glowing pair of eyes, yellow-green and shining like beacons in the night. The growl intensified and the eyes widened sharply as they locked onto each other. A roaring sound that seemed to combine three or four wild cat sounds into one met his ears and a large blurry shape burst from the darkness towards him. It moved with a very feline speed but it’s shape and form defied his vision in the dark to pin it down, a sort of black and white shape that refused to settle.  _

_ He did the only thing he could think of to do; he turned and ran. His bare feet pounded through the grass as he took off across the field. There was no idea in his head of where to run to, he just knew that he had to get away. The sounds echoing across the field behind him gave him all the speed he needed. Arms pumped to work with his legs as his eyes squinted against the air.  _

_ He wasn’t sure how long that he ran, but he knew the creature was hot on his heels. He could feel the impacts to the ground behind him as it followed, gaining on him slowly but surely.  _

_ At one point his point of view shifted, got somewhat lower to the ground and he got the impression that he was running on four legs instead of two. Another shift and, still on four legs, he craned a longer neck to look over his shoulder. The shape behind him seemed to have changed as well, faintly wolf-like now, and gaining on him faster.  _

_ As he turned his head back, vision shifted again and he was gliding over the grass. Air ruffled his feathers and feet were tucked up close to his body, wings flapping to try and gain altitude. The cry of a predator bird behind left his heart throbbing in his chest as he swooped and dived into another bank of trees in search of escape.  _

_ Coming down to the ground again, he felt his body change as he landed on two legs again and came stumbling up against a large, old tree. The base of it was wide and gnarled, and the roots seemed to hide caverns under them. Breathless from his flight, he leaned against the roots and dared to glance behind him. He could hear the shadowy beast drawing closer, stalking him now as if knowing he had nowhere left to run.  _

_ The feel of something soft rubbing against the top of his foot almost gave him a heart-attack then and there. He felt the bite of a shout leave his throat as he looked down and behind him at one of the root-caves. The pale tip of a fox’s tail disappeared at the edge of his vision before a head emerged in its stead and blinked back at him.  _

_ He looked into his own dark eyes, his silver-blue hair falling into them as he looked out in worry. His grey-clad arms seemed to beckon him into the tree-bound hiding place, glancing fitfully beyond him for the creature that had chased him here. Reaching out to him, the figure plucked at his sleeve and pulled as if to enforce the entreaty to hide with him. So he took a few more steps into the darker shadows of the tree, trying to ignore the pacing growl that seemed to come from around them.  _

_ When he got closer, hands latched onto his elbow and yanked hard to pull him close. The lurch of it spun his vision around and, blinking rapidly, he found himself in a different position. He looked back at where he thought he’d been standing and regarded the figure he now seemed to be pulling towards him.  _

_ The taller boy had a high-cheekboned, fox-like face with wide-set eyes of a strikingly light grey-blue. His hair was a deep, jewel-like blue that threatened to disappear into the shadows of their hiding place. The massively oversized pale blue sweatshirt he wore shrouded his long-fingered hands and spilled over his hips, covering most of the knee-length dark blue shorts he was wearing. Long legs ended in bare feet that braced themselves against his pull.  _

_ They both looked out at the dark forest as the multi-voiced roar sounded again, the thud of paws on the forest floor lurching them both out of a regard of each other. He let the blue-haired boy’s arm go when it was tugged from his grasp as the boy leaned forward to the edge of their small burl.  _

_ “You have to get out of here. I think I can distract it so you can run.” came the soft voice, trembling with youth and nervousness as those light eyes flicked about the darkness. Fingers toyed fitfully with the cuffs of his shirt as he inched a little closer to the open air.  _

_ He felt himself mouthing something in return, imploring the other boy to stay with him and not go. He reached out for the blue-clad arm again and tugged until those eyes met his again. There was a slight sadness to them and he swore they glowed faintly in the light like the creature outside, yet this was a silvery blue glow and not the animalistic yellow-green.  _

_ “One of us has to get away. You know that.” he replied, reaching his arm out to clasp at a shoulder reassuringly. “Give me a few minutes, you’ll know when it’s time.” Then the form in front of him shifted liquidly, the blue-haired boy being replaced with a dark-furred fox. There was a soft yip to him before the fox-boy leapt out of their hiding place, the white tip of his tail bounding out into the space beyond.  _

_ He waited with held breath, hearing the roar of the hunting creature outside shift and change, the thump of its passage suddenly changing and moving a little ways away. He heard a sharp, barking sound underneath the growling and knew that the shape changing boy was intervening. The two sounds went back and forth for a couple of minutes and then the barking changed to a much louder and deeper snarling, as if the fox had been traded out for a much larger and more threatening animal.  _

_ The shadow-creature answered with a commanding roar and then the sounds that reached his ears were terrifying. He could only pin it down to the sound of two animals tearing at each other, snarls and cries of pain echoing back to him in the shadows of his hiding place. He almost missed when they went quiet for a bit, his heart was thudding too loudly in his chest.  _

_ “CHANGBIN! GO! RUN! NOW!” came the sharp cry, laden with agony, that pierced his thoughts like an arrow. He didn’t think, he just followed the exhortation and burst from the hole under the tree and took off. He heard the sounds of battle resume behind him and tried to put as much distance between him and it as possible.  _

_ He was so focused on trying to get away that he missed the sharp yelp and ensuing silence. Didn’t hear the howl of triumph that followed it. Didn’t feel or hear the sound of a chase resuming, paws crossing forest floor with a violent speed.  _

_ The first thing he heard was the snarl behind him. The first thing he felt was the impact of a large body hitting his, slamming him into the dirt. The last thing he saw as he turned his head was glowing yellow-green eyes and a mouthful of teeth descending on him. The last thing he felt was a tearing pain and the world went dark.  _

Onyx-dark eyes snapped open to stare blankly at the still-droning television. Fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt and the pillow under his head. His knees were somehow tucked up close to his chest, curled up enough that he could feel the brush of his sweatpants under his elbow. 

“That one again? Why that one?” he whispered to himself, carefully uncurling his fingers from his shirt and dragging them fitfully across his face. He was sweating, and his eyes were wet in a way that they definitely hadn’t been when he fell asleep. Changbin reached out to the table and fumbled for the remote, flicking the TV off and rolling himself upright before tossing it back down. 

Both hands ran into his silver-dyed hair, scratching at the scalp in an attempt to ground him from the panic that still tingled along his nerves from the nightmare. The shapeshifting one always unnerved him, more so than the others. There was always something about the perspective changes and the feeling of his body changing in them that left him more on edge. 

Drawing his fingers back down his face, he steepled them over his nose and mouth and looked down at his open notebook. A few sleepily-scrawled lines taunted him from the lined pages and he snorted to himself. He wasn’t going to get anything written tonight after one of those dreams, they threw everything off-kilter in his head for a few hours at least. 

His eyes flicked to the darkness beyond his apartment windows and Changbin knew what he needed. Even if it was cold, a walk would do him some good. The bite in the air would clean things out between his ears and maybe he could get back to his songwriting faster. Pushing himself up off the couch, he hunted down his socks, sneakers, and an old grey-green hoodie that he tugged on before shoving a black leather jacket over it. Snatching his phone off the charge, he shoved it into the kangaroo pocket on the hoodie and ducked out after locking his door.

The trip down from his second floor apartment to the street was a quick one and soon he was out with pavement under his feet. This was the time of night when he loved the city he happened to call home. Night seemed to sharpen the edges of it, the electric current thrumming underneath it brimming with possibilities. He felt more alive when out on the street at night, for certain. He enjoyed the job he had during the day, but the dark of night was his real home. 

He didn’t really have a set path for his walk, just going where he felt his feet wanted him to go. He felt perfectly safe, to be honest, knowing the areas that were best to avoid but always walking with just enough confidence to keep from being messed with. He could, of course, defend himself if needed… but having a naturally intimidating demeanor seemed to help with that a lot. 

Changbin figured he’d maybe been out walking for about half an hour, going around the block a few times and up and down one or two of the nearby streets. He’d just passed the now-dimmed front of his favorite bakery, musing himself that he’d have to stop there in the morning and check in on the older couple that ran it. 

A whimper reached his ears over the otherwise quiet street, filtering barely over the sounds of passing cars and the buzz of the streetlights. He slowed his brisk walk a moment and, cupping his bare hand over his mouth to warm it, looked up and down the street for a moment. He didn’t immediately see anything and was about to write the sound off as a stray animal when the whimper changed to a faint ‘No, no, no, no’. The tone in the voice tickled something in the back of his head, it was almost familiar.

_ ‘Yeah, that definitely wasn’t an animal.’ _ Changbin thought to himself, admitting that if any of the stray cats around here started talking then that would definitely be a development in the craziness in his life. Frowning a little, he started walking again, steps quiet as he tried to arrow in on the source of the voice and its whimpering. He was expecting trouble, that much was certain. What he found when he tracked down the sounds was definitely not the sort of trouble he was anticipating. 

Tucked into an alley down the block from the bakery, there was a small form huddled up tightly to a worn steel-grey dumpster. Small was only an estimation for how it was curled up, but he could make out long legs and long arms clad in clothing that was far from suited for the climate. The doubled-up hoodies were a dingy blue and grey, their oversized sleeves coming partway over the figure’s hands. The hands were wrapped around knees covered in denim with worn holes at the knees that weren’t likely the artfully-distressed style of the moment. Dingy white socks disappeared into mismatched grey and black sneakers that had seen better days. 

The kid was asleep, that much Changbin could tell around the pulled-forward hood that blocked the figure’s eyes. They shook as much in the cold as with whatever dream was gripping them and, after his own experience tonight, he found a deep empathy bubble up with him. Slipping into the alley, he carefully came up on the huddled figure and leaned over, avoiding stepping on the worn backpack by its feet. His right hand reached out, folding over the kid’s right shoulder, trying to shove aside the feeling of how skinny this kid was under his hand and the faint tingling in his fingers.

“Hey, yo, you need to wake up, kid. This isn’t a good place to sleep.” He said calmly, giving the shoulder a gentle shake and trying to rouse the dreamer. It didn’t seem to do much good at first, though the kid twitched and enough of the hood lifted for him to see that it was a boy he was trying to awake. He tried a bit harder to shake the kid out whatever had a hold of him, inwardly praying that the boy wasn’t in this state from drugs or something. It would just be his luck if that was the case. 

After a couple more shakes and concerned words, the boy started to come around, blinking blearily from the depths of his hood and staring past Changbin at the wall. He frowned down at the kid who seemed catatonic as he came awake. 

“Hey, kid? You with me here? You okay?”

As the kid pushed his hood back and looked up at him, their eyes met and the chill of the night around both of them seemed to vanish for a breath. Grey-blue eyes and blue dyed hair were fresh in his memory, there was no mistaking that this kid was the same one from the dream he just had. The fox-like features alone were a dead giveaway. The shock of it travelled up the hand he had on the boy’s shoulder and he felt frozen.

For his part, Jeongin found himself looking up into dark eyes and silver-blue hair framed in darkness and his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t forget that sharp chin and the almost sardonic expression on the other’s face. He scanned the other boy up and down, taking in the equally frozen look in the other’s gaze as well as the clothing that was in much better shape than his own. It only faintly registered in his mind when the other boy eased down into a crouch in front of him. 

“What are  _ you _ doing out here, kid?” Changbin rasped, finding his voice after a few shaky breaths, his hand not having moved as he came down to the other boy’s eye level. “It’s freezing out here, why are you sleeping outside? It’s not safe here.” 

The words spilled out of the boy’s mouth towards Jeongin and it took a few blinks before they sank in and he recovered himself from what had felt like an electric shock in his head. Licking chapped lips, he unfolded a shaky hand from his knees and ruffled his hair before answering. “It was as safe as anywhere and I wasn’t here for long. Why do you care?”

The slight narrowing of those light eyes and the very rebellious-teen tone behind the boy’s answer were met with a raised eyebrow from Changbin as he cautiously pulled his hand back. Draping his hands over his bent knees, he regarded the boy and quirked a small smile that only slightly softened his sharp features. 

“Guess I have an aversion to seeing people turn into human icicles. Or maybe there’s more to it that you’d have to find out.” He replied before extending his hand to the kid. “Name’s Changbin, humor me and tell me yours?”

Jeongin regarded the hand suspiciously for a moment, looking over the well-kept nails and the tracework of veins along the back. Then he looked back at Changbin's face and seemed to search it for a moment. Something in those eyes spoke of safety to him and, before he realized it, he had taken the offered hand in his. The warmth of it spread like fire up along his arm, but it was a pleasant feeling to be sure. 

“Jeongin. Yang Jeongin.” he murmured back, feeling a little fatigue steal back into him as he answered. “Why do I feel like I know you? I haven’t run into anyone in this city that I’ve had that happen with before.” He wasn’t sure why this was all coming out of his mouth, but he wasn’t going to question it right this moment. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Jeongin, but I think there’s a much better place we can try and figure that out.” Changbin mused, noting the same tingling warmth going up his own hand as some small part of the back his brain turned over the knowledge. He jerked his head out of the alley and smiled. “My place is nearby, it’s warm, and I’ve got a couch that’s much better for a nap. I swear on my grandmother’s grave that I’m not a predator or anything, so you can relax right now.”

Jeongin hadn’t even fully realized he’d gone on the defensive at the invite until that last bit and he chuckled weakly at being called out. “Okay, okay. I give. But just for the night. I don’t stay in one place long.” He started getting stiffly to his feet, grabbing his backpack as he did. “Thanks, Changbin. I don’t know what’s going on… but I kinda feel like I can trust you right now.” 

Changbin rose from his crouch and rolled his eyes at realizing this kid was taller than him. Just his luck, he was the short one out again. Shoving his hands back into the pocket of his hoodie, he backed up to leave the alley and chuckled. “I know what you mean. Feel like there’s a fairytale cliche or something at work here. C’mon, it’s really not far, and I’ll make us both some cocoa.”

“Well, that’s a magic word if I ever heard one.” Quipped Jeongin with a bit brighter of a tone as he followed the silver-haired boy out of the alley and into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always welcome so I know how I'm doing. :)
> 
> This is the last of the character intro chapters. From here my update schedule for these is going to be a bit spotty as I try to integrate the pairs and get everyone else to meet each other. Going to start feeding in other storyworld elements as well!
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	6. My Question and Your Answer Fit Like Puzzle Pieces

“You were a lifesaver with these sandwiches, Seungmin. Thank you. I didn’t get a chance to grab anything after I got out of practice.” Felix wiped the corner of his mouth as he sat tucked up on the opposite of a bench from the other boy. A paper bag with the logo of Seungmin’s workplace sat between them along with a cardboard holder with two still-steaming drinks in it. The darker-haired boy smiled around his own mouthful of food, the expression lighting up his eyes in response. 

It was good that they’d picked the afternoon for their meeting, it had rained earlier that morning and there were still little puddles of water remaining about the park. A few kids were playing in the barely dry playground across the park from them, their shrieks and laughter echoing through the fall air and providing a bright counterpoint to the faintly dreary afternoon. 

They’d been at the park for about an hour now, Felix having been waiting on this same slightly damp bench for just a few minutes before Seungmin showed up. He’d been more than a little nervous after this morning and had been terribly uncertain that the other was actually going to put in appearance. Frankly he wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d not shown, this was all still a big shock and even he was still confused over what had happened. Months of dreams and nightmares and he walks into a coffee shop and sees one of the seven faces that had been plaguing him? It wasn’t something he’d have ever expected and now he was sitting across a park bench looking into those warm dark brown eyes smiling back at him. He couldn’t deny that ever since this morning there’d been a feeling inside him as if something that had been empty was a little more full. As if a puzzle piece had slid into place that was missing before. 

They’d spent most of their time so far talking about their individual lives and situations. It had only seemed right after their otherwise brief meeting that morning hadn’t really left them much time to get to know each other. Seungmin had only known Felix’s first name and that was because he’d needed it for his drink order. Felix only knew how to spell Seungmin’s name from his name tag, so hearing how it was supposed to be said was its own discovery. They found they went to the same university but were in vastly different departments and thus had never had a chance to run into each other there. 

Felix was a dance major, his life revolved around the art and it flowed in and out of everything he did. He’d only moved to the city for the university, having left behind his parents and two sisters with an ocean between him and them in Australia. He missed them, but this was his chance to make a career out of his love of dance and movement. The foreign language minor was mostly to give him a grounding in other languages in case his dance career went international. Seungmin had offered to give him a hand with Korean if he needed it and had been rewarded with a very grateful and blinding smile. 

Seungmin, for his part, was a physical therapy major and also had moved to the city for the program he was in. He hadn’t had to travel as far as Felix had and his family lived only a few cities away, but he didn’t get home often. He’d arrived at their meeting humming a song under his breath and at one point during their lunch-talk he’d been coaxed into singing a little after he mentioned taking singing lessons. Felix had given him an enraptured gaze and enthusiastic applause when he was done. 

“You’re welcome, Felix. I figured it was the least I could do given this morning and the fact that you’re cutting class to sit out here. It’s a little chilly otherwise.” came Seungmin’s warm, slightly nasal voice after a sip of his drink. A little bit of the cocoa in his cup clung to his upper lip and he swiped it away with his tongue. There was a slight warmth that he could feel in his cheeks, but he wrote it off to the weather rather than the circumstance. At least that’s what he was telling himself to tamp down the burbling feelings in his chest. 

What was it about this blue-eyed, silver-blonde boy that made him feel a little more complete? Why did he have to walk into his coffee shop of all places today? There were so many questions he wanted to blurt out into the chill between them, but he comforted himself with the food for now and mentally bided his time. The quiet between them didn’t feel awkward, it felt oddly comfortable, as if they were two old acquaintances who were meeting up after months and years apart. How was that possible when they’d never physically met each other? Was it the dreams?

The pair ate in silence for several minutes, a dichotomy of light and dark between them in the shade of the bare tree above them. The slight breeze sent old shed leaves, long since turned brown with the season, skittering along the pathway they sat by. Their chosen spot was open, yet somewhat away from other activity in the park. A perfect place to meet and learn a bit more about each other. 

Felix finished first, taking a long sip of his cooling cocoa and settling the cup back in the drink holder for safety. He shifted to sit sideways on the wooden slats of the bench, one leg bent and the other draped over his ankle. Leaning his elbow on the back of the bench, he regarded Seungmin for a long moment and licked at his lips briefly. The other boy had glanced out at the park as he worked on the last couple of bites of his food, and it gave Felix time to get a good look. He found himself drawn to the boy’s hands, a memory coming to him of a soft amber glow coming from them. 

Seungmin’s eyes pulled away from watching a couple of kids playing across the park, feeling eyes focused on him, and blinked a bit at the way Felix was looking at his hands. Tucking the last bite of sandwich in his mouth, he washed it down and set his own cup down. Felix’s eyes continued to follow his hands thoughtfully and so he reached out the space between them to touch one of the other boy’s hands softly. It seemed to startle Felix out of his stare, blue eyes blinking rapidly and his cheeks turning slightly pink with embarrassment. 

“It’s okay, Felix. Why were you staring at my hands?” Felix flicked his eyes up through dark lashes to regard Seungmin and frowned slightly. How to explain what he saw without seeming crazy? What sort of question was that, this was all rather crazy to begin with. He inhaled slowly and let out a low breath to center himself. 

“I was remembering the last dream I had with you in it. Your hands were glowing. It was this soft amber color, it looked soothing. More soothing than the rest of that dream…” Felix murmured, just loud enough for Seungmin to hear but not enough for it to carry much beyond the two of them. Turning one of his hands over, he took the hand Seungmin had touched him with and cupped it, using the other to trace the fingers. “I’ve seen it in other dreams with you in them. Sometimes you’re healing things with it, sometimes you don’t get a chance…”

Seungmin held very still as Felix held his hand, licking his lips and watching the other boy’s small fingers explore his fingers and palm. He took in what the boy said and mulled it over, wiggling his fingers a bit and trying to imagine what the other might have seen. He didn’t recall ever seeing it on his own hands, but it did jar something in his memory. 

“I’ve never seen that on my hands in the dreams… I just see the colors others put out. Yours was always white, but it was either silvery or golden in hue. There was always light, regardless of whether it was peaceful or…” he felt his voice trail off as his own memory of the last dream he saw Felix in came to mind. Seungmin shivered slightly as he remembered the sensation of being torn apart by the light and felt Felix’s hand tighten its grasp on his gently. 

“Hey, they were just dreams, right? It’s okay. We’re okay, they weren’t real.” Felix’s voice was reassuring, even if it trembled a little in making that assertion. “You mentioned the others… who else did you see? I-I want to see if we saw the same people. Since I’ve seen you, that means at least six others are out there and I know now that they have to be real people.” His hand was warm against Seungmin’s and he rubbed his thumb into the other’s palm. 

Seungmin looked down at their joined hands and breathed sharply through his nose. He knew Felix was right, that if they had been in each other’s dreams and were now here face to face then the others had to be real. “One had bright red hair and grey eyes, his hands glowed green. Brown-black hair and eyes the same color as mine, his glowed a soft yellow. Long blonde hair and blue eyes, his were a light blue. Dark hair dyed silver, dark brown eyes, black was his color. Dark brown hair with rainbows in it, his was fire red. Blue hair and grey-blue eyes, he didn’t have a color that I could see… he changed shape.” He looked up to meet Felix’s eyes and his breath caught at the other’s expression. 

Felix looked rather like someone had smacked him in the forehead, eyes wide and round as he looked back at Seungmin. He’d gone completely still after the second description, images from the various dreams cycling through as he matched them up to his own memory. His thumb stilled after the fourth and by the last the only thing that told him he hadn’t turned to stone was the pulse pounding in his ears. 

“That… is the same thing I’ve seen. All of them. And they seem to match with whatever the theme of the dream is. Green for earth, yellow with air, blue with water, black with shadow, red with fire. Yours is amber and it seemed like healing… and the shapechanger…” he mused, his thumb starting to move again in circles that were meant to reassure Felix as much as it was Seungmin. “But… what do they mean? I mean… they seemed like they were powers, but they’re just dreams, right?” 

Seungmin reached out his other hand to Felix, capturing his other one and holding on tightly. “I don’t know, Felix. This is all so much. I feel like we’d need to find these other six to find out… but how the hell would we know where to look? This city is huge! I mean… how many times might you and I have walked by each other in the past months and not even had a clue?” His expression grew frustrated, his teeth grabbing at one side of his lip and eyes crinkling at the corners. “How do we know that they’ll react like you and I did? This is all so damn strange.”

“I know, I know. Hey, it’s okay, we’ll take it one step at a time.” Felix squeezed Seungmin’s hands as they started to tremble a bit in his. He empathized completely with the other’s nervousness right now but both of them getting panicky wasn’t going to be good, not out here in the open. “Hey, look at me and breathe. If these dreams have been going on for months, I don’t think we need to figure this out right away. As it is, you and I still need to figure each other out because all I know about you is that you work in a coffee shop and go to school. Also that you have gorgeous eyes and I’ve felt like something was just ‘right’ since I met you and it’s made all this a little easier to think about. We’re not alone in this anymore.”

Seungmin blinked rapidly and stared back at Felix after the compliment, the timing of it managing to snap him out of a bit of his anxiety over the situation for at least a few breaths. “My… eyes? Th-thank you.” he said around a shaky exhalation, shifting a little in his seat. “I… I know what you mean about the ‘right’ feeling. It’s like something was missing and it’s not anymore… but it feels like there’s still more missing. It’s hard to explain, but… I think I’m glad you walked into my shop this morning. You’re right, we aren’t alone. Thank you.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Felix smiled back brightly, his blue eyes turning into half-moons as he gave Seungmin’s hands another squeeze. Then a breeze blew by them both and he shivered sharply, letting the other boy and going for the last cooling remnants of his cocoa. “Ooof, I don’t think I can sit out here much longer. Feels like it’s getting colder earlier this year. Oh! I know, I only live a few blocks from here, why don’t we head back to my place and get warm for a bit? I want to talk more, but I don’t think either of us can afford to get sick right now.” 

Seungmin pulled his hands back and rubbed his cheeks, certain now that the warmth was not as much from a blush as it was from the cold air. “That sounds like a good idea. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at place right now and it’s a bus ride away… you’re sure I’m not imposing? This is just still so weird since we’ve just met… but it feels like I’ve known you for ages now.” He reached for their sandwich wrappers and tucked them into the bag before draining the last of his cocoa and adding the cup to it, waiting for Felix to finish with his before bundling up their combined trash. 

“I’m sure, and my apartment could use some life to it. I think it only sees me when I sleep half the time anyway, I’m barely there between classes, dance practice, and events.” Felix chuckled as he watched the other boy pack everything up, reaching for his own bag that had rested at his feet while they talked. It didn’t feel like they’d been talking for very long but the lines of cloud-dampened sunlight through the buildings were starting to stretch. He stood from the bench and stretched, reaching his arms over his head until his spine popped a little bit. “We’ll get warmed up, I’ll make some tea, and we can go over everything. I have a feeling if we maybe get everything down that we’ve both seen then maybe we’ll get some clues to the others. Maybe even a timeline for how long this has been happening.”

“Then lead on. Like I said, I live on another side of town and don’t know much of this area outside of the cafe and the park, so I’m at your mercy, Felix.” Seungmin quipped, getting up and crossing to a nearby trashcan to dump their trash before coming back to join the other boy. “Just going on a hunch by this point that you’re not just an incredibly attractive axe murderer waiting to take advantage of my trusting innocence, Lee Felix.” 

The playful tone of his voice seemed incredibly at odds with the serious expression on Seungmin’s face and Felix gave him an odd look offset by the noticeable blush that stole onto his cheeks. “Yah! You can’t just compliment me and accuse me in the same sentence, Kim Seungmin. You look so sweet and you’re hiding a savage in there, aren’t you?” Shaking his head, he laughed lightly and turned to lead the darker-haired boy out of the park. “What have I gotten myself into now?”

\------

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys in a couple days, try not to break anything between now and then! I’m not qualified to put your asses back together yet!” Hyunjin waved his group members out of the studio door ahead of him, the lot of them laughing and carrying on, some making plans to go out in search of dinner and others professing a need to go fall on their faces for a few hours. At least one boy whined about having a paper to finish writing and got playful jabbing back about waiting to the last minute. 

Hyunjin leaned on the wall beside the door, watching fondly until the last member left before grabbing his bag and flicking the lights off in the studio. Shutting the door behind him, he listened for the click of the lock before turning towards the lobby. It had been a little over an hour, they’d gotten distracted in ironing out details for their next show. There was a tiny bit of nervousness bubbling up inside him as he lifted his eyes to scan the lobby ahead of him. Was Minho actually going to come back… or was that just a fluke?

The rustle of plastic clued him in a bit before his eyes caught the dark-haired boy leaning against the reception desk, back to the empty chairs behind it and body propped up on elbows. A white plastic bag held the shapes of take-out containers next to him, the handles loosely knotted to keep the contents from shifting. Minho’s eyes were looking out the glass doors to the street outside, dark eyes blinking slowly as he watched the lights of a car slide by in the early twilight. As if keyed up for the sound of footsteps, his head turned slowly and graced Hyunjin with an easy smile. 

“There you are. Glad I didn’t miss you in that rabble just now. Still hungry? I got some noodles from up the street.” Shoving off of the desk, Minho collected the bag and walked leisurely over to meet up with the taller blonde. The easy smile turned playful as he dangled the bag and gestured to another door at the side of the lobby. “The girls here are gone for the night, I have a key to lock up with, the lounge is comfortable, we can talk. I think we really, really need to talk.”

Hyunjin’s blonde brows crept up towards his hairline, but he shrugged and followed the gesture nonetheless and headed towards the lounge. “That smells a lot better than protein bars and water. Thanks. I don’t think well on an empty stomach, anyway.” Once he stepped into the lounge, he chuckled and headed for one of the plush-looking couches on one wall of the room. Sinking down into one side of it, he braced his back against the arm and set his bag at his feet. “Okay, you weren’t kidding, this is pretty comfortable.”

“I’m not in the habit of lying about important things and comfortable seats are very important. Especially after a long session in the studio when you’re trying to work out a leg cramp.” Minho set the bag down on a low table in front of the couch and took up residence at the opposite end. It wasn’t a very big couch so they couldn’t get away from bumping limbs a bit, but neither seemed to mind too much at the moment. Undoing the bag, he passed Hyunjin a plastic container of noodles and a pair of chopsticks, setting a can of chilled green tea to one side before grabbing his own food. 

There was a wordless noise of understanding from Hyunjin as he popped open the container, inhaling the savory scent off the food before digging in. The pair ate in a companionable sort of silence for a few minutes before the blonde shifted position to rest his container in his lap and grab a sip of his drink. Then, gesturing with the chopsticks in his right hand, he looked over at Minho expectantly. “You up for talking? I mean, this isn’t a usual day for me, getting dinner bought for me by a handsome stranger… who doesn’t seem like a stranger.” 

Minho paused, eyes flicking up from his container as he lazily slurped a noodle up into his mouth. Reaching for his drink, he chewed quickly and sipped at the tea to clear things before trying to speak. “I don’t make it a habit to run into strange blondes I see in my dreams, either… but here we are. I know it’s possible we’d seen each other around the building before, but I have no idea why today was different. Did you feel the…” Setting the can down, he wiggled the fingers of his hand towards Hyunjin and raised an eyebrow at the other boy. 

“The shock? I think I’d have to have been dead not to feel that. Reminded me of the time I got shocked by the frayed wire on my toaster… except without the pain.” Hyunjin mused, curling the fingers of both hands around the cold metal of the can as if to ground himself. The comment earned the raise of Minho’s other brow but he brushed off the slight concern in the other boy’s eyes. “Long time ago, don’t worry. I don’t even own a toaster anymore and I’m a lot more careful of things in my line of work.” 

As the concern morphed into inquisition in Minho’s eyes, the conversation derailed for a while as they learned a bit more about each other. They found that dance was one of the constants between each of their lives that they could bond a bit more deeply over and it opened the doors a bit more between them. 

Hyunjin went on at length about the see-saw of trying to balance his EMT training with his dance crew. He was so close to finishing up and being able to get certified, able to help people in such a concrete way. He admitted that some of his idealism would probably take a hit when he started actually having to go out on calls, but for now he was excited. He’d originally come to the city to go to school for nursing, but found he wanted a bit more action than being tied to a hospital or office all day. The dancing was his release, his way to get out of his head after filling it with knowledge, and it was a passion he was determined not to give up even after he went full-time. 

Minho admired his drive, saying so openly as he listened to the other talk. He gestured to the building around them and claimed that it was as much his home as his own apartment as he spent so much time there. He was close to being finished with his dance major and had been steadily teaching classes for about a year and was probably going to go full-time after graduation. He’d had a few offers from companies to join their ranks but hadn’t made any decisions yet. Dance was literally his life and he knew that was going to be the case for a long time, he’d come to the city to keep that love alive. 

They spent the better part of an hour just talking about dance styles, influences, music they preferred to dance to and so on. By the end of it, Minho confessed that it felt like they’d know this about each other but didn’t until today and it definitely gave him questions. 

“Seriously, how could we have gone by each other for months on end and not ever interacted? Even months ago when these dreams started, why didn’t I see you before? Why now?” Minho rambled around his last mouthful of noodles, setting the container on the table beside them so he could gesture with his hands. “I mean… it was only yesterday that I had a dream with you in it… and it was the first time you said my name. Why now?”   


“Yesterday? I had one today just before I came to meet the crew, and just like yours it was the first time you said my name. I had no idea who you were and then there you just happened to be. Like a bolt of lightning.” Hyunjin leaned forward, his own container empty beside him for a few minutes now, reaching out to tap Minho’s knee with his last word. “Months ago they weren’t that detailed. They weren’t even that noticeable back then. Now… now it feels like I have one or two a week. It’s made concentrating on class and dancing difficult and I’m worried something’s going to slip.”

A slight frown settled on Minho’s brow as he listened, eyes glancing to one side as his mind added things up. Were his dreams more frequent, more intense? He licked his lips, cleaning a bit of sauce off of one corner distractedly, before his eyes went to Hyunjin’s hand and then to his eyes. “You’re right, they are more frequent now. I sort of remember bits and pieces from way back and they’ve gotten more intense. I’d call some of them nightmares more than dreams.”

“Oh, I’d agree. The last one I had was a real nightmare, I still get chills off of it.” Hyunjin’s voice dropped to a murmur and his hand fell between them, going still as his eyes got a faraway look to them for a moment. It was so easy to recall the storm, the sensation of being hurled through the air, that he didn’t realize he was shivering until a warm hand curled around his. He snapped out of the memory with a soft gasp and looked at the brown eyes across from him with a slight daze. 

“Hey, it’s not real, it was just a dream, right? I’m here, you’re here, we’re safe and warm and we’re just talking.” Minho tried to reply with as much reassurance in his voice as he could as it was obvious that Hyunjin had been rattled by whatever he remembered. He’d make a note to ask the boy about what he’d seen later, when they’d both had time to process it all. He couldn’t help but look down at their joined hands and blinked as a remembered blue glow seemed to superimpose itself over Hyunjin’s slender fingers.

“But if I saw you and you saw me, what about the others I’ve been seeing? Fire, earth, shapeshift, light, dark, healing, they all seemed to have a different… ability? Your’s was air, soft and yellow.” Hyunjin said softly, not quite whispering, but almost reverent in the way he talked about the other dreams. It made the hairs on the back of Minho’s neck prickle as he connected the mental dots with his own dreams. 

“Three pairs of brown eyes, one grey, one grey-blue, one a lighter blue than yours. Don’t ask, I don’t know why I remember the eyes so well, might be because those were what I saw first. Your color was blue, and there was water. Seems fitting for a dancer, fluid and all…” Minho’s fingers squeezed Hyunjin’s hand before turning it over, looking at the palm intently for a moment before his other joined it to trace the various lines. “If they’re out there, how would we find them? With you it feels like something is in place that wasn’t there before… but it’s still sort of… empty.”

Hyunjin watched as Minho’s fingers danced over his palm, tacitly ignoring the faint ticklish sensation it garnered even as a warmth grew between them. “It’s not like we can put an ad on Craigslist or something, Minho. Maybe it’ll just have to be luck… like you and me? I mean… if things are getting more intense, maybe it’s because we need to find the others? Like puzzle pieces?” He swallowed sharply at the implications of his statement sunk in a bit, the concept that there might be something more to these dreams than either of them had noticed. 

“I don’t know, Hyunjin. This all makes me really nervous on some level. Why us? Is it just them and just us? Is no one else having weird dreams that, occasionally, go a bit towards the apocalyptic in nature?” Minho looked up, still frowning and rubbing a thumb across the heart-line on Hyunjin’s palm. He faintly noted the tingling that followed the movement but didn’t focus on it, instead locking onto the blue eyes across the couch from him. “Right now I think I trust you… but I’m not sure about six other people.”

“Then I guess we cross that bridge when we come to it. For now… we can exchange numbers and keep each other up to date on dreams? See if anything changes? I mean… between your schedule and mine we have enough chances to keep each other updated.” Hyunjin laid his other hand atop Minho’s and rubbed his fingertips across the back of the older boy’s hand reassuringly. He understood some of the boy’s reluctance but he wanted to know more. 

“I… I think that works for now.” Minho replied softly, eyes eventually drifting away from Hyunjin’s and down to their clasped hands. “I don’t know why this has me so afraid. Months of these dreams and you’d think I’d be happier to know more, but it’s all so confusing. Thank you for staying to talk with me, Hyunjin. Even if it feels like we have more questions than answers.” He squeezed the blonde’s hands once more and tried to summon a smile around the leaden feeling in his chest. Something in him didn’t want this evening to end, to leave and go back to his quiet apartment. 

“Hey, I got answers out of it, too, so it was good for both of us. Plus I got free food, not all bad.” Hyunjin’s smile quirked at the last, and his heart warmed as he managed to eke a snort and mock-affronted look out of Minho. One more squeeze of his hands and he drew them back, reaching to collect the remains of their dinner. “You don’t live far from here, right? Mind if I walk you back, make sure you get home okay? Least I can do for all of this, you know?”

Minho tucked his hands in his lap for the moment, watching the taller boy collect containers and cans and shuffle them off to the trash can in the corner of the lounge. “I’d like that. Just feeling a little off-kilter, but that could just be because I’m tired. This is just all so much…” He trailed off, uncurling himself from the couch and collecting his bag from under the table. He groaned a bit and stretched as he stood, feeling a bit of stiffness from dance practice making his joints creak a little. He grabbed Hyunjin’s bag and held it out to the other as he trotted back over. 

“I get it. I feel like I could sleep for a week right now, so much in my head. Thanks.” Hyunjin took the bag from him, slinging it across his shoulders with practiced grace and heading for the door. Pausing at the door, he waited for Minho to follow and smiled softly. “Besides, if we walk close enough to each other, it might not seem so cold outside.” 

The faint dust of pink that stole across Minho’s cheeks was hard to miss before he flicked off the lounge light and gently shoved the blonde out into the lobby. “Can’t fault that logic, you charmer. Come on, let me lock things up and we’ll get going.” He ushered them across the still quiet of the lobby, hitting a few light switches on the way and holding the door open for Hyunjin to exit and wait for him on the now-dark front step of the dance studio so he could lock up. 

“Mmm, glad you brought dinner in, that warmth is going to hold me all the way home.” Hyunjin danced from one foot to the other, feeling the evening chill sweep with the breeze against his jacket. Once Minho finished locking the last door, he bounced backwards towards the last few steps and started to dance down them, his eyes more on his walking partner than where he was going.

Minho watched him with amusement for a moment before movement to their right caught his attention. He started to reach out and warn the other dancer but barely got a hand out in warning. “Whoa, watch out, Hyu-”

Hyunjin’s head turned a fraction too late to stop his body colliding with a couple walking on the street behind him, even his dancer’s grace not enough to prevent the eventual tangle of limbs on the sidewalk. There was a warm body underneath him, back sprawled on the pavement and chest heaving from the impact and connecting with his own. The air suddenly felt as if it was charged with electricity, the tingling familiar from when he’d come in contact with Minho just a few hours earlier. Carefully, he maneuvered his hands to lever himself up and off the figure beneath him, his head turning to find the other’s face and gauge injury. 

His world froze in an instant when his blue eyes locked onto a pair of a much paler shade than his own. Silver-blonde hair was fanned out slightly against the pavement and falling slightly into the gaze that met his and went past it, feeling as if it sought out his soul. He knew this face, those eyes, knew the deep voice that lurked behind the half-parted lips before it could ever leave them. He barely felt Minho’s hands reach for his shoulders, barely registered the voices above him enough to pick out the other dancer’s against the strident tones of another. 

“Whoa, Felix. Are you okay? Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you klutz!” 

“Hey, hey, give him a sec, he didn’t see either of you, did you, Hyunjin?” 

“Well he should’ve been paying more attention! I can’t tell if either of them are hurt.”

“Give them a sec, that was a bit of a hard impact. Sorry about all this, name’s Minho… oh, shit, no. Not now, not now.” 

“Wait… no. It can’t be. What are the damn chances?”

“Higher than we thought, Seungmin. Much, much higher.” Felix’s low-toned response left his lips even though his eyes didn’t leave Hyunjin’s for a moment. He reached out a shaky hand toward Seungmin as he sat up, letting out a relieved breath when the boy took it. “I think dinner’s going to have to wait…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate your views and any comments highly! 
> 
> I fought for a bit with how to have these four eventually meet up before it, well, hit me. ;)
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	7. My Head Is Burning, Question Marks Filling Me Up, Blaming Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pushed myself to finish this because I was so excited for seeing Miroh reach 100 million views on YouTube! Awesome work from all the Stays out there for our boys! <3
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)

“Damn, Seungmin, you sure you’re not in art school? These are amazing!”

Swallowing a mouthful of hot soup, Seungmin looked up over the edge of his cup towards Hyunjin in the nearby armchair, the blonde leafing through a small sketchbook from Seungmin’s bookbag. Felix was half-sprawled next to him on Minho’s couch, an ice pack on his left elbow and one leg propped up on the coffee table, a similar cup of soup in his right hand. Minho bustled about the kitchen of his small apartment, using tidying up as a reason to work off nervous energy. 

The boys had trooped the block or two to Minho’s apartment after getting Felix and Hyunjin up off of the pavement outside the studio. The elder of the four counted them all lucky that he had some spare cup noodles in his cabinets, feeling it was the least he could do after interrupting the younger pair’s foray for dinner. The ice pack for Felix was a precaution more than anything, the dancer only mentioning a slight stiffness in the joint. 

They’d skipped more than basic introductions during the trek in favor of getting somewhere warm for all of them. Names had been exchanged and they’d managed to stay in a tight grouping as they walked, Felix and Seungmin with noses tucked deeply into scarves. A few layers had been shed in the elevator on the way up to the 4th floor apartment Minho called home and guarded smiles were shared as they walked down the hallway to his door. 

Now, with hot soup, hot beverages, and a bit more comfort, the quartet had begun the slow process of easing into the topic at hand. Tentative handshakes were given, each noting the almost electric feeling of the contact that lingered afterwards. Words took longer to come, though, and it took the three younger boys starting to talk about their classes to get any dialogue going. Eventually they segued into a few minor details about each other, but they were all still acting relatively guarded.

There was a buzzing anxiety under Minho’s skin as he moved around the kitchen. His earlier reluctance over possibly meeting other faces from his dreams had been rather thrown out the window when Hyunjin collided with Felix. He’d resigned himself, ultimately, to an evening that was going to be nowhere near as restful as he’d planned. Right now he should be relaxing under the duvet on his bed and thinking about class tomorrow… and possibly more time to talk with Hyunjin. 

Instead he has three boys in his apartment, voices filling up the usually empty space and effectively shattering the routine that had kept him going for months. Even with the dreams he’d managed to keep things on mostly an even keel so far and it had been a bit of comfort to cling to. Tucking one last dish into the cabinet above the dishwasher, he turned and leaned his back against the counter to look out into the living room. 

Hyunjin was still practically nose-deep in Seungmin’s sketchbook, going a page at a time and ghosting his fingers across the images. Occasionally a small noise would leave the blonde’s mouth, one finger pausing over something on the page that stood out. Another page was flipped and the long fingers stilled completely for a moment before the boy’s head lifted and turned towards Minho, blue eyes blinking rapidly. 

“Damn… he really got you down, Minho. You should see this.” The awe in Hyunjin’s voice reached the dark-haired dancer and he frowned, pushing away from the counter and ambling out of the kitchen. Crossing the floor, he came up behind the armchair Hyunjin sat sideways in and leaned over the back of it to look at the sketchbook. He was only half aware of his eyebrows attempting to climb his forehead along with the soft chuckle from Hyunjin below him. 

The sketch was rough, yet surprisingly detailed, the black lines of pencil having captured quite the scene. He saw himself, hair and clothes windswept, with one hand outstretched towards a stormy sky with a rocky outcropping at his feet and back. He could almost feel the snap of the rain in the way his face was upturned, eyes searching the lightning that arced overhead. If he didn’t know better, it looked like he was reaching for something with a measure of desperation. 

“I never dreamed of myself… is this really how everyone saw me?” Minho said softly, tearing his eyes from the drawing reluctantly to look first at Hyunjin and then Felix and Seungmin in kind. His fingers curled into the old blanket that was folded over the top of the armchair, seeking a grounding of sorts in the woven texture. 

“Mostly in the last month or so, but yes. There was always a storm, wind, rain, all of that.” Felix answered, shifting in his spot on the couch and leaning forward to set the ice pack on the table. Tucking his silver-blonde hair behind one ear, he took a sip of soup and looked up at Minho. It was hard to ignore the conflicted expression on the older dancer’s face, an expression pained, anxious, and curious all at once. “The early dreams weren’t quite as dangerous, but the last few…”

“I always wondered what flying was like, but that was never how I wanted to find out.” Murmured Hyunjin as he looked up at Minho with a guarded expression, as if measuring how his words impacted the other boy. He flipped back a page to the previous drawing and held up the paper delicately. The image in this one was obviously of Seungmin himself, arms and legs flung wide against a storm-sky backdrop and body seemingly pulled along by an unseen wind. “Most of the dreams lately haven’t… ended well.”

Minho swallowed sharply and straightened at the image, pushing away from the back of the chair and pointedly avoiding looking at Seungmin for a moment. One hand was still curled in the blanket as he stared blankly at the blind-covered windows nearby. The buzzing in his head seemed to grow to a deafening roar and the room around him faded outfor a moment. He was faintly aware of warm hands on his face, thumbs brushing at his cheeks, and a soft voice repeating his name. Another hand was atop his against the blanket, rubbing gentle circles into the back of his hand. His other hand, which had loosely been at his side, was taken in the grasp of two more hands and squeezed gently. 

It was with that last contact that the buzzing in his head was replaced by a deep thrumming sensation, not unlike the hum of an electric current. Through the unfocused fog of his vision, Minho got the impression of colors trying to come into view, each with a vaguely human shape to it. Directly in front of him was a soft amber shade, to his left a soft blue, and to his right a gentle white. He felt frozen in place as a small thread of each color appeared to stretch out from each shape, meeting in a spot just in front of his chest and swirling into a small ball. A detached part of him watched the small ball of color spin in front of him lazily, the colors rippling through it like oil on water. Then a small thread of green extended into the ball from somewhere around his chest, adding to the play of colors for a moment before yanking it towards him with lightning speed. 

He gasped aloud and his vision cleared suddenly, the sound echoed by three other voices as everything snapped back to crystalline clarity. Minho looked straight ahead into Seungmin’s brown eyes, the latter’s wide and startled and his fingers shaking slightly on Minho’s cheeks. He flicked his eyes to the left and caught Hyunjin’s equally shell shocked blues finding his over the chair, his hand gripping Minho’s hard to keep both of them from shaking. A glance to the right and down found Felix, the younger boy’s lighter blue eyes just starting to gather tears, both of his hands holding onto Minho’s as if life depended on it. 

None of the four moved for a minute or two. They barely even dared to breathe into the sudden quiet. Seungmin’s mouth was still half-open from calling Minho’s name and he fitfully licked his lips before being the first to break the frozen air between them all. 

“What… was that?” Seungmin whispered, one of his hands moving from Minho’s face so he could look at the shaking fingers before curling it against his own chest. With gentle patting motions, he felt at his shirt as if expecting something to be there. Nothing physically met his hand, but he did notice something familiar settling inside him. It was like an empty spot inside him was a bit fuller than before, like when he had touched Felix. “Did we all just… what the hell?”

“I don’t know. Did you guys see the colors, too? Did you _feel_ that?” Hyunjin burst out, barely having the presence of mind to toss the sketchbook on the table before kneeling on the chair so he could lean over the back. Both hands came to touch Minho’s as he did, the iron grip he’d had on the boy relaxing somewhat. When the elder didn’t move away, his gaze still a bit far away, he went back to rubbing a circle on the back of Minho’s hand.“Minho, are you in there?”

“I felt it. I saw it. I don’t know what it was, but it was something.” Came Felix’s voice from closer to the floor where he’d sunk to his knees. He let go with one hand enough to try and wipe the tears out of his eyes before they could spill onto his cheeks and let out a shaky breath. “What the hell is going on here? That was like what happened when I met Seungmin… except, like, to the n-th degree or something.”

Minho, for his part, still felt frozen to the spot as the others babbled around him. He could see Seungmin in front of him quite clearly, but nothing felt entirely real, more like he was feeling his body from the outside while also feeling like a live wire. He could see when the other’s expression went from shocked to concerned, and the thumbs on his cheek brushed wetness away. Was he crying? 

With the other three still attached to him at three points, they all felt the sensation of something falling into place. It almost clicked like the tumblers of a lock when fitted with the right key and it rippled through their hands in a wave from Minho outward, his body jerking slightly in place. Then the older boy’s eyes fluttered close and he crumpled, body dropping like a stone in front of them.

Seungmin barely managed to get his arms under Minho’s before he fell too far, grunting under the sudden weight before lowering them both a bit more gently to the floor. He didn’t question the fact that he’d barely known this boy for a bare hour and instead followed instinct and pulled him close, eyes flicking between Felix and Hyunjin as he settled the dark-haired head on his shoulder. 

“Whoa, Minho!” Hyunjin yelped, letting go of his hold on the dancer’s hand and stumbling out of the chair to get to his side. He scooted a bit around where Seungmin had settled kneeling on the floor, Minho’s otherwise limp form pressed to his chest with legs folded awkwardly beneath him. He carefully brushed the brown hair away from his face to press his hand there, finding the temperature beneath it normal, and then pressed two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. Finding a steady rhythm beneath it, Hyunjin sat back on his heels and let out a gusty breath. “Hell… he’s just out. What did we do to him?”

“I don’t think it was anything we intended to do.” Seungmin and Hyunjin turned as one to the silver-blonde boy who had been quiet for the past few minutes. 

“That… have any of you guys ever accidentally electrocuted yourselves before? Or seen a lightning rod get hit?” Felix piped up again from where he had been kneeling on the floor, Minho’s hand still in his and his eyes still quite wide. He gingerly let the hand go and tucked it carefully into its owner’s lap before meeting the confused glances of the other two. Licking his lips, he reached out towards Minho’s arm and, without touching it, mimed jerking in place as if shocked. 

“When we all touched him, it’s like he was a lightning rod. Everything we felt came after we touched him and that ‘click’ was almost like whatever that was hitting the grounding point.” He made a similar gesture of the shock travelling down Minho’s arm to his hand and then into Felix’s hand. “I think he got overloaded? Too much at once? I mean, when one of us first touched the other two, it was electric, but manageable. More like a longer static shock than anything else. He just got three of us at once and that has to be a hell of a lot of feedback.”

“I-that makes a lot of sense, Felix. He just had the luck to be the one we all centered on, that could’ve been any of us.” Hyunjin mused, continuing to keep a watchful eye over the passed-out boy throughout all of this. He noted that Minho did look a little pale and even with a steady pulse and breathing, he didn’t show any immediate signs of stirring. 

“We’ll have to keep that mind when we meet the others. We don’t need any of us passing out on the street or something. I keep getting the feeling that this is something we need to keep between us.” Seungmin murmured, adjusting his hold on Minho a bit and rubbing the boy’s back gently over his shirt. He was equally reassured by Hyunjin’s watchful presence as he was by the soft puffs of warm breath against his neck. Glancing down at his armload, he winced slightly and nudged Hyunin with an elbow, getting the blonde to look at him with wary curiosity. 

“We should straighten him out… or even get him to bed. His hips are going to hurt later if he lays like that for much longer.” 

Both Hyunjin and Felix winced at that and thus began the group effort to scoop Minho off the floor and get him the short distance to his bed. Hyunjin ended up carrying him once he got his arms in the right place for a bridal-style carry, just a bit of fussing on Seungmin’s part to keep Minho’s own arms from flopping about. Felix went ahead of them to both make sure the path to the bedroom was clear and to turn down the blankets on the bed. 

They managed to tuck the unconscious boy into the depths of his bed, head carefully resting on his pillow, duvet tucked up to his chin, all without him once stirring. The trio quietly eased themselves out of the room and pulled the door almost all the way closed. A tiny gap was left so they could hear if he woke up and they returned to the living room. 

Hyunjin picked up the sketchbook again and settled onto a spot on the couch with Felix to his right and Seungmin to his left. The silence between them was almost deafening as he flipped through the sketches again, quickly bypassing the one of Minho and settling on one just after it. The face that looked back out of the page in black and white was young, fox-like, a head of ruffled dark hair falling into light-colored eyes. Seungmin’s sketch almost seemed to capture an aura of fear in the boy’s posture, one arm stretched behind him towards what was definitely a fox. There was an odd sort of stretched smoothness between the human figure and the animal, as if they were connected. 

As he stared at it, he felt the pressure from his left as Seungmin leaned into him to look at the sketch followed by a soft sigh. The other boy’s fingers reached over to trace the edge of the face on the page, then pointed to the shadows sketched in behind him. 

“He was always running from that. Changing his shape to get away or, in the recent dreams, put himself between me and… that.” Seungmin murmured, his voice drawing Felix in to look at the sketch as well, fingers moving to pluck at the next page until Hyunjin turned it. “I keep feeling this sense of worry with his dreams especially. I mean… most of the ones with you and the others haven’t been a walk in the park, but there’s something about his dreams that leave me feeling lost.”

The next page held a scene that elicited faint shivers from all three, of Seungmin sprawled on his stomach and reaching forward as a massive black animalistic shape with glowing eyes devoured his lower half. Hyunjin quickly flipped to the next page before any of them could linger on it further.

They went through this for the next few hours, taking in the familiar representations of what they’d only acknowledged in their minds. When images of Hyunjin and Felix came up, they shared understanding looks and hesitant touches that elicited only a soft thrumming sensation rather than a sharp shock. It was if the incident earlier had gotten them acclimated to each other. They were all growing a bit too weary with the late hour to question it too much. 

When three more faces showed up on the paper, they each took their time memorizing the planes of each and their accompanying dreams. The black and white nature of them failed to fully capture the crimson hair they knew one had, nor the rainbow sheen to another, but it made the silver-blue of the last more resemble Felix’s hair and drew a soft chuckle out of the boy. Even if it was hard to dwell on, they looked over the drawings of Seungmin within each dream and talked about what they remembered. 

By the time they were done, Hyunjin’s shoulders were the resting place for one light head of hair and one dark and he was yawning between them. It was obvious none of them were in any shape to move from the couch. At some point in the evening, Hyunjin had reclaimed his phone to take pictures of the faces of the boys they had yet to meet. He checked the time on it blankly and realized it was going on four in the morning. Yeah, none of them were in any way in a good place to try and get home on their own. 

Nudging Felix gently, he murmured to the nearly-asleep boy to grab the blanket off the armchair. With a minimum of grumbling, the other boy reached out with one limber leg and hooked it with a sock-clad foot, hauling it back towards his lap. Handing it to Hyunjin, he smiled dopily as the older boy shook it out over all three of them and slouched down a bit into the couch before propping his feet up on the table. It wasn’t long after that when the only sound in the room was the soft breaths of three exhausted boys. 

\---------

The early sunlight was streaming through the slats of the blinds by the bed, fingers of rose-tinted light stretching slowly across the floor as the sun rose for the day. Eventually they travelled up the bed and across Minho’s face, causing the boy’s face to scrunch up indignantly under the relatively soft warmth. He laid there for a few moments until the sun moved away from his face, soaking up the comfort of his bed for as long as he dared. 

Wait. His bed? Dark eyes snapped open to regard the speckled texture of his ceiling, the dingy trio of decorative lights on the fan over the bed. He was in his bed all right, but the last thing he remembered was standing in the living room with…

He shot bolt upright in bed and hissed at the stiffness in his back and hips that protested the abrupt movement. The duvet fell into his lap and he realized he was still in his clothes from earlier. Someone must have put him in the bed but he’d be damned if he could figure out why that was necessary. His brain was foggy, memories trying to settle themselves into place like a jigsaw puzzle missing pieces. 

Gingerly extracting himself from the bed, he took a moment to slowly strip off the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d been wearing before. Chucking them at his laundry basket, he turned and grabbed his usual sleeping gear: a pair of blue flannel pants covered in black and white paw-prints and a very oversized grey long sleeved shirt with a long-faded design of an orange kitten surrounded by the words ‘If You Don’t Talk To Your Cats About Catnip, Who Will?’ At this point, if he’d been dropped into his bed by his most recent houseguests, outing himself as a cat lover was the least of his concerns. 

Once he was more comfortably attired, he pulled the bedroom door open and went in search of the younger three. The apartment was quiet, the wall clock near the front door letting him know it was a bit past seven in the morning as he headed towards the living room. He last remembered it maybe being a little after eleven before his memories got fuzzy. 

The first thing he could see as he came up behind the couch was Hyunjin’s blonde head tipped back against it, hair fanned out slightly against the top of the couch. The boy was dead to the world, eyes with slight shadows under them loosely closed and his mouth hanging just the tiniest bit open to let him softly snore. As Minho got closer, he saw the silver-blonde of Felix’s head leaning against the taller boy’s right shoulder, unmoving in a way that told him that he was asleep as well.  
  
It took him rounding the couch to get the full picture and he quirked a small smile at the scene. Hyunjin in the center, arms apparently folded around the sketchbook, legs propped up on the table. Felix to his right, head on his shoulder and one arm slung across Hyunjin’s stomach. Seungmin had somehow managed to slide down into Hyunjin’s blanket-covered lap and turn over, his head pillowed on the boy’s thighs with one hand under his chin and the other having wrangled the blanket over his chest with his back to the couch’s edge. They look positively domestic to Minho and it left the older dancer with a fond smile. 

Passing by them, he walked quietly on socked feet into the kitchen and quietly began the process of making a pot of coffee. Once the machine was working away at brewing, he collected a few cups from the cabinet and turned to watch the sleeping trio while leaning on the counter. Bits and pieces of the night before were starting to slot themselves together in his head, but he wanted to give the boys a bit more time to sleep. 

He remembered looking at Seungmin’s drawings, feeling unsettled by the one that showed the boy having been flung up in the air. The violence that seemed to accompany the more recent dreams had never sat well with him. The insinuation that whatever happened in dreams he was present to them was just as violent had shaken him badly. The next few minutes seemed to replay in his head as if he was watching a television show, the slight disconnected feeling of it seeming to defy it being reality. 

He recalled the sensations of hands on him, his face and hands tingling at the contact at first. It was only when Felix grabbed his hands that it seemed as if his whole body was rooted. The way the electric shock of it all seemed to pin him in place and loop through him like a circuit. It seemed to go on for an interminable amount of time, setting every nerve ending alight with a feeling he could only describe as pure power. The visions of color and threads merging was almost secondary to the rest. He found himself nibbling at one thumbnail as he managed to recall the sensation when something seemed to pop into place and then everything faded away. 

The scent of coffee brought him out of his thoughts just as he reached the conclusion that he must have passed out. Shaking his head, he quietly poured the hot liquid into the mugs and, with a couple of trips, brought each out along with his sugar canister and the carton of creamer he kept in the fridge. Making sure each cup was safe from Hyunjin’s feet on the table, he reached over and gently shook the blonde’s legs before sitting down in the armchair. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty… wakey wakey… “ Minho said when the middle boy stirred, face scrunching up at the jostling. He kept his tone just loud enough to be a gentle rousing and waited with as much patience as he dared. As Hyunjin shifted in place, he moved just enough to disrupt Felix’s slumber and elicit a whine out of the freckled boy. 

“Five more minutes, mom.” came the murmured complaint in Felix’s deep voice, eliciting a soft chuckle out of Minho that reached the boy enough for him to crack open one blue eye. Scanning around for the source of the sound, he focused suddenly on the softly smiling older boy and sat up sharply. “Minho! You’re awake! Guys, wake up, come _on_.” He elbowed Hyunjin sharply in the ribs and caused the blonde to whine sharply and jerk his hands around the sketchbook and bounce Seungmin’s head as his knees jerked. 

Seungmin, for his part, was still asleep enough that the bounce shook him off his lap-based pillow and rolled him face-first off the couch. Minho and Felix winced in unison at the thump of the boy’s backside hitting the floor and the former got up from the armchair to lend a hand. The half-awake boy glared up at Hyunjin through puffy eyes before accepting the help to untangle his legs and get back up on the couch. 

“Mnnh, the hell was that? Oh, Minho, you’re awake. That’s good.” Seungmin slurred, voice still thick with sleep as he tucked himself against the arm of the couch and gave one of Hyunjin’s legs a disgruntled kick. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Mmm, a bit past seven right now. There’s coffee on the table, figured I’d let you all wake up before figuring out breakfast.” Minho replied as he crossed the room to a small chest and dug out another blanket, coming back to spread it over Seungmin’s legs and patting the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about going anywhere, I think we all had enough of a night to take things slowly today.” 

“Tch, I think that was the best sleep I’ve had in about a week.” whispered Hyunjin, one hand releasing the sketchbook to drag through his hair and rub at the back of his neck, wincing a little at the stiffness there. It wasn’t lost on him that he’d slept for at least four hours without being interrupted by even a hint of a dream or nightmare. Pulling his legs down from the table, he leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his knees. 

Seungmin rescued both his sketchbook and Hyunjin’s phone from the other boy’s lap before either could slide to the floor, tucking the former firmly up to his chest protectively. He was still getting his sleep-muddled thoughts together, but seeing Minho up and moving and outwardly well made the process a bit easier. “How long have you been up?” he asked after clearing his throat gently. 

“Just long enough to make coffee and take a few blackmail photos of you three passed out on my couch.” Minho replied with a playful arch of his eyebrows, leaning towards the table to add sugar and creamer to the cup he’d poured for himself. He gestured to the other three cups and smirked over a sip as the other three gave him looks ranging from exasperation to alarm. “I’m kidding, relax.”

Felix was the first to reach for the coffee, dumping a huge amount of sugar in it before retreating back to the couch. Rubbing one eye, he inhaled about half the cup before finding his voice again. “We looked at the rest of Seungmin’s sketches after you passed out. Hyunjin took pictures of the other four just in case.”

“Yeah, and I can send them to all of us just in case. I mean… I think at this point we’d all _know_ if we saw any of them, but it’s backup just in case.” Hyunjin muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with both hands before reaching for coffee. He glanced sidelong at Seungmin and raised an eyebrow, gesturing at the sugar and cream. When the younger boy replied with a puppy-like shake of his head, he smiled and handed one steaming cup over without adding anything and collected his own. “I’m really glad you don’t seem badly affected by whatever happened last night. I kinda hope we can find the other four and prevent a repeat of that. Even with being an EMT that kinda scared the shit out of me.”

“I only faintly remember what happened, at one point I wasn’t even sure I was in my body.” Minho mused, relaxing back into the armchair and drawing up one knee, resting it between himself and the arm of the chair. Cradling his coffee against his stomach, he let the warmth seep in and let his eyes wander blankly over the paw prints on his pyjama pants. “I was already anxious about meeting more people than just Hyunjin, so I was keyed up enough as it was. Something about seeing that drawing of myself and… after… it just was a bit too much and I sort of checked out. Then you all touched me and it was like everything just lit up and I couldn’t move. I don’t remember a lot after that.”

Felix reached over and laid one hand on Minho’s bent knee tentatively as the dancer spoke, scritching the soft flannel with his fingertips until the other’s gaze refocused onto him. “I think we all figured out you were kind of a lightning rod for… whatever that was, whatever’s going on between all of us.” Minho blinked at Felix’s reply and slowly swiveled his eyes towards Hyunjin and Seungmin who nodded their agreement. 

“We didn’t get nearly the feedback that you did, but I know whatever was going on was making you cry.” Seungmin said softly, brushing a thumb across his cheeks, miming where they’d been on Minho’s face the night before. “I couldn’t tell if you were in pain or what. Then something just… clicked, and you fell. How are your hips feeling, by the way? You kinda crumpled funny and I was worried that hurt you more than anything else.” Hyunjin made a low sound at that and nodded, giving Minho a more critical look at that. 

Stealing a hand to his hip, Minho rubbed the flannel clad joint and took a deep breath. “I was a little stiff when I woke up, but nothing bad. Just felt a little… foggy when I woke up.” He sipped at his coffee again and made sure all three on the couch were in his view. “Did no one have a dream last night? Or at least not like what we’d been having?”

“Like I said, best night’s sleep I’ve had all week, even if my neck isn’t happy.” Hyunjin replied with a palpable sense of relief in his voice, using the coffee cup more as a way to warm his hands than anything else.

Felix frowned slightly and looked to one side as if remembering and then nodded slowly. “Same. I don’t recall dreaming of anything, but couldn’t that just have been because we were all tired? Couldn’t they just come back again tomorrow night?” 

“I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer to be in my own bed when that happens.” Seungmin replied sharply, but without any real malice behind his tone. He fingered the edge of his sketchbook and sighed softly. “This leaves us with more questions than we had last night. Biggest one I can see right now is how the hell are we going to find the other four? We know what they look like… but we can’t count on random chance like last night on the street.”

“The dreams had been getting stronger over the past few months, right? Some of us have been here a while, long before the dreams started.” Hyunjin leaned back against the couch, rubbing his thumbs along the rim of the cup. His brow was furrowed in thought and it drew the looks of the others after a bit. “What if someone in our dreams is new here? Not like in the last week or so, but maybe in the last few months… and it, I don’t know, catalyzed something?”

Minho’s eyebrows shot up and he straightened in the arm chair, setting his cup down on the table. “Like something’s building up, but it took more of us being in the same area for it to kick in? What would need eight of us in once place at one time in order to do what it’s doing to us? What’s going on that we seem to be the only ones it’s happening to?”

Felix drained his cup and set it down on the table with a firm thump before speaking. His deep voice seemed almost ominous with the turn their conversation had taken. “I don’t know… but I’m starting to get a feeling that we need to figure something out. Fast.”

“Before we figure out if the world is ending… can we get some breakfast, first?” came Seungmin’s sheepish reply, temporarily breaking the tension building in the room and making the others chuckle. “It’s Saturday, we have the weekend to work on this. If whatever’s going on has waited this long, I think it can wait a little longer.” 

\------

Outside, the last vestiges of rose-tinted sunrise bled away into a sky that thickened slowly with grey clouds. A rumble of thunder rolled in the distance, and cold wind swept down the city streets. Across town, four other dreamers woke from a new and different dream, this one with a sense of purpose to it. 

_Find them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate the views, kudos, and comments as I continue! 
> 
> I post updates and other randomness on my Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	8. The Footsteps You Left Up Until Now, Where Are They All Heading?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one. This chapter fought me a bit and I'd been having a rough mental time between my job and still being effectively on lockdown. This story is an outlet for me, but a couple of things in it hit a little too close to things in my past. I'm mostly happy with it. :)
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)

“That was great! You’re just a little behind the beat on the second line, let’s run it one more time?”

Curled up on the couch at the back of the recording studio, Jisung glanced up and over the notebook he’d been scribbling in. The worn cover was pressed up against his knees and his pencil was paused halfway down the page in the middle of a lyric. Chan’s voice to the artist in the booth beyond had briefly broken him out of his concentration. It wasn’t the first time that afternoon that it’d happened but he was starting to take more notice of the other’s voice while he worked. 

Chan had a very easy tone to listen to, Jisung noted, fingers stilling as he watched the older boy work at the console. His Australian accent lent itself well to the friendly demeanor he carried, but wasn’t so thick that it made him hard to understand. It seemed to calm nerves, put others at ease, and effectively grounded some of the flightier artists that he worked with that day. It had certainly made him feel welcome when Chan had shown him around the company that morning. There were a lot of people who smiled and greeted them, calling out jokes to the Aussie as they went by and getting laughs in return.

Jisung had worked with many professional producers since he got into the music scene. That was part of why he’d come to the bigger city, trying to get more of a break into the industry than he would’ve had back home. He’d said as much to Chan as they’d walked back to the company that morning, finding it very easy to talk to him about things that he normally kept reserved. The connection they seemed to have made over breakfast was settling over him like a warm blanket and filled up a part of him he hadn’t realized was empty. 

They’d talked a bit back and forth between the recording appointments Chan had that morning, mostly about each other’s lives since the periodic interruptions didn’t leave much time to delve deeper. Jisung had been reasonably forthcoming with the fact that he was always on the move, not really having a place to call home since he’d come a few months back. He’d felt somewhat drawn to this city in particular and since meeting Chan he’d started to wonder if something hadn’t lead him here. There were plenty of other places he could have gone, he still had a list of them tucked into his wallet and buried at the bottom of his backpack. 

As if feeling eyes on him, Chan glanced over his shoulder and gave the dark-eyed boy a warm smile, checking to make sure he was getting along okay while he worked. Thankfully this was his last appointment of the day and he knew they’d be free to find somewhere to talk more after this. He couldn’t shake the protective nudge that had settled in his heart since meeting Jisung and he’d mostly chalked it up to just being older and concerned about the boy being homeless. Talent like his could be so easily snuffed with one bad run-in… but there was something more behind it. 

He thumbed the mic after the young man in the booth before him finished his last run-through, calling out his encouragement and that it was a wrap for the day. There was a brief exchange setting up the next visit and what they planned to cover then, Chan noting the information in an appointment book nearby so he could put it in the computer system later. Shaking hands, he showed the artist out of the studio and leaned on the door after shutting it. Catching Jisung’s gaze with his own greys, he grinned and shoved his thumbs in his pockets.

“Well, that’s it for today. I have a free schedule the rest of the day, want to get out of here? I don’t feel like being cooped up here any longer than we have to be.” 

“I’m game.” Jisung’s cheeks puffed up a bit around a smile, hands reaching for his backpack and tucking the notebook away with practiced ease before clambering off the couch. He started to reach for the duffle that carried most of his other gear, but it was snatched from his reach by Chan before he even bent over to get it. A noise of both surprise and dismay squeaked out of him as he looked up at the older boy and the grin still spread across his face. 

“Now what sort of host would I be if I made you carry all your stuff, today?” Chan chastised playfully, swinging the bag so it rested against his back, arm bent against his chest and hand angled back over his shoulder to hold the straps of the duffle. His own pack was collected and slung over the opposite shoulder, hitting his hip with a thump that denoted it being a bit heavier than it appeared. Getting the door with the other hand, he turned and gestured for Jisung to precede him, chuckling at the faintly disgruntled look on the squirrel-cheeked boy’s face. 

“It’s not like I’m new to carrying it all, Chan. How do you think half that stuff got here with me?” Jisung protested weakly as he shouldered his backpack and walked out into the studio hallway, waiting as Chan followed after flicking off the lights and locking the door. His thumbs tucked into the straps of the bag and he rocked on his heels in place idly. “Where are we headed? I know I’m getting a bit hungry.”

“Figured I’d show you my place, if that’s okay? I’ve got a spare room, a decent kitchen, and it’s sure safer than half the hostels in this city.” Chan headed down the hallway towards the elevator, talking over his shoulder at the younger boy as they walked. He tried to gauge how the boy would respond to the offer of a place to stay, attempting to school his own features to not look too hopeful as he did. 

His bottom lip snuck in between his teeth as Jisung followed Chan down the hall. It was a tempting offer, to say the least, but he was wary. He’d been on the receiving end before seemingly well-intentioned offers that went sour the first night or ended up with strings attached that he was in no position to entertain. The number of times he’d been come on, always with an expectation of earning his place to sleep, had made him more than a bit skittish. 

Yet he couldn’t deny the comfortable familiarity he’d slipped into with the grey-eyed boy. Chan hadn’t done more than shake his hand since they met, seeming to hedge around Jisung’s own comfort level given they’d barely just met. The respect and space provided made up his mind for him. 

“I think that’d be good. Plus it gives a chance to talk about everything without… “ he gestured to the building around them, a few people passing them in the hall, giving the redhead a knowing look. 

“Hah! Yeah… you’re right on that. Come on, we’ll catch the bus rather than walk in the cold.” 

The trip down in the elevator and down the block to the bus stop was spent in a companionable silence, more to save breath in the wind that had picked up outside. The bus stop didn’t provide much shelter and they ended up with Chan acting as a sort of windbreak for Jisung when he noticed the younger boy shivering a bit in the wind. He stood just close enough to be protective but still being mindful of the other’s space. 

The bus, when it came, was just crowded enough that personal space wasn’t really up for consideration, but they managed to sit with Jisung at the window and Chan on the outside and neither seemed to do too badly for the relatively short ride. Before Jisung knew it, they were off the bus and walking a mere block to Chan’s apartment. The old brownstone was an oddly comforting bit of older architecture amidst the high rises and Jisung found himself admiring the facade before Chan ushered him up to the third floor. 

“It’s not much, I don’t have a roommate right now or anything, but I figured having a spare bed isn’t always a bad thing.” Chan swung the door open to the apartment, holding it for the younger boy to walk in behind him before locking it back up again. He took a brief moment to show Jisung each of the locks involved just in case he needed to get out. “Building’s a bit old, but it’s been home for a few years now so I’m kinda loath to give it up. Security and all that.”

It was a very small and spare apartment, that much was obvious, but it was well lived-in. The couch was worn but functional, shrouded in a light brown cover with a couple of blankets draped over the back. It faced a reasonably new-looking TV with an old wooden crate in service as a table. The kitchen was a doorway to one side, a bar with two stools along the wall looking out of it. Opposite the kitchen was a hallway that likely ran to the two bedrooms and bathroom, Jisung figured. He made a beeline for the couch and, after a tentative bit of poking, flopped down on it with his backpack. 

“Sure looks better than half the hostels in this city, no doubt. Anything better than cramming into one big room with nine other people.” The young rapper mused, running his fingers over one of the blankets, a slightly threadbare thing in shades of peach and red. “Thanks, man. I kinda bailed on the last hostel without notice and that one is a bit picky about skippers.”

“It’s no problem. Let me set this in the bedroom and then we can figure out lunch, okay?” Chan hefted the duffle and headed down the hallway, reappearing shortly after a soft thump from the bedroom. He smiled as he noted Jisung watching where he went and gestured over his shoulder. “It’s a room, it’s a bed, your duffle is on the bed. Lemme dig up my menus and we’ll see what’s good.”

There was a desk against the wall with the windows, and Chan paused to carefully set his own bag down on the chair in front of it before rifling in one of the drawers. Pulling out a folder, he crossed to sit down next to Jisung on the couch and set the folder between them, opening it up to display a sizable collection of take-out menus. Jisung’s brown eyes widened a bit before he bent forward to pick through the menus. The pair devolved for a while into discussions over the meal, trading menus back and forth as well as jokingly dubious looks about each other’s taste preferences. 

An hour later, they were both settled with plastic containers of pasta and bread, balancing their meals in their laps and talking around bites of noodles and sauce. Chan glanced over Jisung’s shoulder towards the windows, idly noting the changing slant of the afternoon light before he looked back to the other boy. He chuckled at how the boy’s cheeks puffed out when full of food and resisted the urge to reach out and poke them. 

While they’d waited for their lunch, the pair had started talking about the dreams they’d each been having. There’d been a brief moment where they reached for each other’s hands, mostly to confirm the same electric tingle of skin to skin contact was real. Jisung’s apparent gift for making dramatics out of retelling information made for a good bit of entertainment as he told Chan about his dreams, including the one he’d had only that morning before they’d met. Chan nodded along, elbow on the back of the couch and head propped up on his hand, interjecting bits when he recognized things that matched with his own dreams. 

Even after they’d settled down with food, there was still a very active conversation back and forth. As it had been in the diner, there was a definite air of comfort that had settled between them as if it had always been there. Neither took the time to question it, angling more for trying to understand just what was going on. 

“I keep feeling like I might have actually seen one of the others around town. Not long enough for me to remember them right away, and not, like, out on the street or anything.” Jisung gestured with his fork after hastily swallowing a mouthful, using the utensil almost as if drawing in the air. “The one with the chin and the silver-colored hair. I think I saw him the other week at one of the shows uptown. It’s all a blur with those, though, so I can’t be sure.”

Pushing a bit of meat around the bottom of his container, Chan’s brow furrowed slightly as he dug through his memories, dream and otherwise, for something similar. When he hit upon a mental image of that same face surrounded by darkness, his eyebrows promptly shot back up and his free hand reached up to brush fingers against his lips. “Oh. Him! You know… I think you’re right. In fact, I know you’re right. I know I’ve seen him around before. But… if we’ve been having these dreams for months, why didn’t either of us recognize him before like you and I did this morning?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, I don’t understand one lick of this shit. I like a good puzzle sometimes, but not so much when my brain is the puzzleboard.” Jisung quipped back, snagging the soda he’d had tucked in his lap to wash down his food. Pausing with the bottle against his lips, he raised a brow at Chan and smiled. “Hey… when I was on my way to meet you this morning, I found a flyer for a show later tonight, around 8 or so. Want to swing by, see if he shows up?”

“Not the first time I’ve stalked someone at a show, but usually that’s for professional reasons.” Chan mused with a half-smile, lifting his head from his hand to gesture meaningfully at Jisung. The younger rapper chuckled at the implication, reminded of the text message exchange that morning. “I’m game if you are. I’m probably going to work on a few bits on my laptop over there, but if you want to catch a nap or something you’re welcome. Where’s the flyer? I can look up the address, make sure we leave with plenty of time to get there.”

Fishing the weather-worn bit of paper out of his backpack with one hand, Jisung handed over the flyer with it’s loud graffiti art into Chan’s hands. “With all these carbs? I hope I sleep like a baby… for once.” he replied, watching for a moment as Chan got up and headed for the desk with the remains of his lunch before taking over the couch and shoving his hoodie under his head as a pillow. His food got set down on the makeshift table along with his soda. “Wake me when you’re ready to go, ‘kay?”

“Sure thing, Ji.” Chan chuckled, setting down his container long enough to haul his laptop out of his bag and set it up on the desk. He paused, fingers on the top, and turned his head to make sure that the nickname was okay. He hadn’t even thought about it until it was out of his mouth, it seemed so natural. His mouth was half open to say something and he stopped abruptly, seeing that the younger boy was already fast asleep. 

“Like a baby…”

  
  


\------

  
  


The smell of coffee was the first thing that came to Jeongin as he woke. The second was the feeling of a cushioned surface beneath him that wasn’t cold, unforgiving pavement. The third was that he was warm and there was a blanket tucked around his shoulders. He cracked open one blue-grey eye and was met with dark grey fabric in front of him, the light grey of a pillowcase under his head, and the darker blue of the blanket that had come up just below his nose. 

Senses returned to him one by one, along with the realization he had actually managed to get sleep without a dream this time. It’s not that it never happened, it just had been happening a lot less lately. A wiggle of his toes brought awareness that he was just slightly curled up on what was likely a couch, still in his jeans but without the hoodies he’d been wearing, remaining in just a t-shirt that was looser than it had any right to be. 

Consciousness fully settling in, he opened his other eye and carefully shifted on the couch until he was facing outward. It had been pretty late when Changbin had ushered him into the apartment and it was mostly dark, so he hadn’t really had a chance to look at the place. There’d been guarded conversation over the promised cup of cocoa. Nothing terribly deep, they were both very cautious of each other despite the questions that had lingered in each other’s eyes. The older boy had made a point to state that Jeongin was free to leave in the morning if he wanted, no questions asked. 

As he took in the comfortable furnishings of the apartment, Jeongin found himself with few reasons to leave right away. The smell of the coffee was starting to be underlaid by the scent of cooking eggs and meat and his stomach promptly made its presence known. He curled his fingers against his belly and frowned down at the growling noise it made. 

“Well, someone’s awake.” came the soft, slightly raspy voice from the direction of the kitchen. Changbin appeared at its edge a moment later, a spatula in one hand and a red-checked towel draped over one shoulder. Sparing a moment to brush his silver-blue hair out of his eyes, he gave the waking boy a warm smile and nodded towards the kitchen with his head. “Got coffee on, food’s cooking. Late breakfast, maybe lunch. It’s after noon already.” 

After noon? Jeongin sat up sharply on the couch, the blanket falling like a puddle from his shoulders, pooling in his lap as he looked around and found the apartment’s windows. The light coming through was definitely not of a morning variety and the noises from the street outside made sense for a midday bustle. He glanced owlishly back towards the kitchen and Changbin, raising a hand to ruffle at his blue hair. 

“Did I really sleep that long? I don’t remember the last time I slept that much.” He whined half-heartedly, swinging his legs down to the floor and getting up, sparing a moment to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. Shuffling towards the kitchen, he stumbled slightly when a hole in one sock let a toe through and threw off the slight glide that socks were providing. “Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

“Seemed like you needed it. Plus… if last night was anything to go by, I’d believe you that you haven’t slept like that in a while.” Changbin mused, turning back into the kitchen to mind the food on the stove, gesturing offhand to the small table and chairs at the edge for Jeongin to sit. “I know I haven’t slept much in the past few months myself. Nightmares tend to do that...and I think you know what I’m talking about.”

Jeongin flopped in one of the chairs, pulling the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders and watching the older boy, responding to the last statement with a small grunt of acknowledgement. He let his eyes unfocus for a moment and let his mind wander back to the last dream for a few minutes, remembering the darkness that Changbin had seemed to wield in it and weighing it against the figure standing in front of the stove. Their meeting the night before on the street seemed more to match that darkness than the atmosphere right now. 

The clink of a cup on the table in front of him jarred him out of his thoughts and he looked down, finding a worn mug with the inky darkness of coffee in it sitting in front of him. Changbin gave him a small smile, reaching out a hand towards Jeongin’s hair, fingers stopping just before touching the younger boy’s hair. He seemed to think about it for a half a second before following through, gently ruffling the blue locks before heading back to the stove. 

“Don’t think too hard kid, I don’t need to test the smoke detector here.” Changbin called over his shoulder, giving the scrambled eggs another quick stir before spooning them onto a pair of plates. Reaching over the plates, he thumbed the lever on the toaster to get toast going before turning back to the pan currently frying bacon. “Let me know if you want milk or sugar or anything for that, got it?”

Making food for him and the kid kept Changbin just focused enough that his own mind didn’t have a chance to wander. His biggest aim was to get food in the skinny thing sitting at his kitchen table. He’d seen the boy’s wrists and the hollow cheeks, recognizing the underfed look of them far too well after years living in the city. There were enough kids like him that hung at the edges of the underground shows, hungry as much for a meal as they were for the barest chance of recognition or spotlight. 

He watched out of the corner of one eye as slim-fingered hands uncurled from the blanket and reached for the cup, chapped lips sipping cautiously at the hot beverage with a far-away look. Inwardly, Changbin cursed his soft side for taking in this random kid, but he couldn’t get away from the remembered sensation of electricity when he had touched Jeongin. Nor could he ignore the comforting feeling that something inside him was a bit less empty than before. The toaster popping jarred him out of his thoughts. 

Letting out a tiny sigh, he slid the food onto a pair of plates, setting one in front of the blue-haired boy and one at his own place before grabbing utensils for them both. A quick grab of a butter dish on the counter and he settled into the seat opposite Jeongin. He gestured between the boy and his plate with his fork and smiled. “Eat up, it’ll help. Plus cold eggs are nasty.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened at the plate of food set in front of him, expression wide open and full of conflicting emotions as his fingers inched towards the fork. His blue-grey eyes flicked upwards at Changbin who was doing the boy a kindness and not staring at him while he dug into his own food. Curling his hand around the warmth of the coffee cup, he gingerly picked up the fork and went for the eggs. The warm, fluffy texture hit his tongue the only thing that stifled his groan of delight was that very mouthful. It took another two bites before he had to stop and set the fork down, pressing the heel of his free hand against eyes threatening to tear up. 

Changbin hadn’t been staring, but he had been keeping a tacit eye on the boy to make sure he ate. So the reaction to the bite of food didn’t slip by him. Setting his fork down, he cautiously reached across the table to gently touch Jeongin’s hand where it held his cup. Pushing aside a reaction to the electric tingle of the contact, he just let his fingers sit for a moment with a concerned expression on his face. 

“Hey, now. I’m not used to cooking for more than myself, but it can’t be that bad?” he joked, leaning forward a bit in hopes of catching those pale eyes with his own. Changbin’s heart twisted slightly at the thought of what could’ve caused such a reaction, but he waited to see if the younger boy would say something himself. 

Jeongin gave a small, wet laugh at the question, shoulders shaking and a single tear escaping out of one eye to streak down his cheek, quickly wiped away by his fingers. He cautiously opened glistening eyes to look across the table at Changbin, taking a moment to compose himself a bit better under the guise of really looking the older boy over. 

“No no no, the food’s fine. It’s great. It’s just… I haven’t had someone cook food just for me in a very long time.” the blue-haired boy coughed out the words with a slight tremble to his words, trying to keep his voice in check. The ache in his chest from younger memories seemed to want to push past the walls he tended to keep up, the presence of the dark-eyed boy across the table more reassuring than he wanted to admit. “Not since I left home.”

Changbin made a small ‘mmm’ in acknowledgement but otherwise remained silent, fingers tapping a soft rhythm against Jeongin’s hand as the boy’s shoulders trembled. When more words spilled from the fox-eyed boy’s lips like a flood, he kept the soft touch going and his face holding gentle concern. He listened and took in the short life story of a home where he was at turns ignored or berated for his existence, words that belittled and degraded and loving touches were unheard of. He was never physically beaten, but he was never really cared for which was its own abuse. Jeongin had held on through high school, determined at least to learn all he could cram into his head, only tasting what he felt was freedom after graduating. A year and a half on the streets since then and Changbin could easily see how those years had worn on such an otherwise bright soul. 

Jeongin did manage to eat a bit more while he talked, even if there were points at which he choked up and had to pause to get himself under control again. Telling someone else about his life was freeing but he wasn’t going to let a good meal go to waste. By the time he was done, both with his story and his breakfast, he realized that Changbin’s plate had gone untouched and cooled. His face must have shown that he felt bad about distracting the other boy, because the silver-blue head glanced down at his plate and shrugged. 

“I have a microwave, don’t worry.” Changbin waved off the concern with his free hand, the other still in contact with Jeongin’s hand as much as possible. Hearing the boy talk about where he’d come from had lit a fire of sorts in his already aching heart, the need to protect rising so sharply he swore it must have been pouring out of his eyes. It might have been from the way Jeongin’s expression shifted from ashamed to warily curious. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that. It’s rough trying to be on the streets in this city, I know. Listen, you can stay here as long as you like. Don’t worry about it.”

The tension bled a bit out of Jeongin’s shoulders at that, tears falling a bit more freely but more out of relief. He gave Changbin a watery smile in return and, to the surprise of the other boy, turned his hand to grab a hold of the fingers that had been touching it. Giving a tight squeeze, he glanced around the kitchen and found the microwave. Letting the hand go, he grabbed the cold food in front of Changbin and got up, leaving his blanket behind. “Let me get that, then. Maybe then we can talk about other stuff? If I’m gonna stay here…”

“Yeah… you’re right. At least if you have another nightmare you’re somewhere safe. We’ve got all day. I’m supposed to hit up a show later tonight but that’s all the plans I have.” Changbin didn’t protest the accosting of his plate, instead leaning back in his chair to watch the younger boy walk across the kitchen to the dinged-up microwave he kept on one corner of the counter. Laying his hands across his stomach, he thought for a moment and pursed his lips. “If you want, you can tag along. I’d hate to leave you here by yourself with all this.”

The soft beep of buttons and the whirr of the turntable sounded into the kitchen before Jeongin turned, resting his hip against the counter and letting his fingers toy with the frayed hem of his t-shirt. “A show? What sort of show? Will there be lots of people?” There was a slight nervousness to the fidgeting, his expression guarded as he considered the offer. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with large groups of people… but it seemed like a lot so soon.

“There can be, it’s like a concert. I’m a rapper, I do these underground shows from time to time, outside of my day job at a record store. Keeps me up on local stuff that doesn’t seem to make it into the shop.” Changbin replied, noting the fidgeting calmly while slowly drumming his fingers against his middle. He mostly wanted to keep this kid close, where he could see him and know he was okay. Leaving him at the apartment for the hours didn’t sit well with him at all.  “Oh… I’ve kinda heard about those, I sometimes see some kids coming back from them talking about who they’ve seen. Just never been in a spot to go check on out.” Jeongin mused, jumping just slightly when the microwave beeped behind him. Retrieving the reheated food, he walked back over and set the plate in front of Changbin before sitting back down. “You sure you wouldn’t mind if I tagged? I mean… I could stay here, but I feel oddly safer with you around. Not sure why that is…”

“Not at all. I’d feel better knowing you were nearby anyway. I know where you can hang out at this particular venue and not be in the way or anything.” Changbin chuckled before tucking into his food. Conversation came more easily at that and the two talked quite a bit about each other’s lives. Jeongin was smart, that much was obvious, crafty enough to have survived a year and a half on his own in a large city without getting hurt. Changbin made side comments about getting him a job at his record shop which made the younger boy smile. 

Before long the topic turned to the dreams that each had been having, not able to put it off any longer. Jeongin’s eyes took on a far-off look as he went into a surprising amount of detail about the dreams he had, most recently the one that Changbin was in. The darkness prevailing in the dream made the lighter-haired boy’s eyes narrow in thought, but he only asked soft questions to keep the other boy going. When it was his turn, he spoke of Jeongin’s apparent shapeshifting with a quiet awe, spinning out the angles of the nightmares with what almost became a sing-song quality. It gave Jeongin a peek into the other’s vocal talents and had him leaning forward against the table raptly. 

When they went back and forth about the others they each saw, the similarities in other six boys seemed to gel, giving each a surprisingly clear image to go by. Changbin thought a bit longer on the one with red hair, something itching at the back of his brain that tickled a note of familiarity. Had he seen him before and just not noticed? 

They spent several hours this way, going over the depths of faces, powers, and the scenarios that seemed to repeat. The fact that neither had dreamed much after they got back to the apartment wasn’t lost on either of them, but there had been nights apart where the dreams were absent. They were few and far between, but they did happen. At some point, dishes were washed and the kitchen tidied, the pair ending up back on the couch to keep talking. It was only when the sun started angling through the curtains into late afternoon that Changbin broke away from talking to note the time. 

“Hmmm… show’s at eight tonight, it’s about six now. Want to get cleaned up, get some dinner, and get there a bit early? That way we’ll get you a good spot to sit and watch that you’ll be safe in. Plus I can introduce you to a few folks that come around the shop.” Changbin stretched as he spoke, feeling and hearing his spine pop into place after sitting in one position for a while. He took a critical look over Jeongin for a moment and sighed. “I’d offer to loan you some extra clothes, but I think the only thing you might fit is my shirts.” 

Looking down at his own clothes, Jeongin shrugged and reached down to his bag. “I have a spare pair of jeans that is mostly clean, but I wouldn’t say no to a shirt or two. These were kinda near the end of their life.” He reached under his shirt and wiggled his fingers up through the layers of not one but two t-shirts until finding the holes that went through both. He smiled lopsidedly at Changbin and shrugged helplessly. “At least I’ve stopped growing at this point. Trying to five-finger-discount jeans would be easier now than it was a year ago.”

“Yeah, I’ll fish a couple things out for you. Go shower, use whatever you need to, towels are on the rack over the toilet.” Changbin shook his head and got up from the couch, heading towards one of the two doors off the living room that was apparently his bedroom. “I’ll lay stuff in there for you. Don’t worry, door opens so you can’t see the shower and I won’t peek.” He heard a soft acknowledgement from Jeongin followed by a chuckle as the boy headed for the bathroom. The door shut softly and, after a few minutes, he heard the sound of the water coming on and continued into his room. Rifling through his drawers and closet, he picked out a dark grey long-sleeved shirt and a graffiti-printed black tee that were at least a little bit longer than his usual. 

It was very easy for him to quietly open the bathroom door and set the clothing down on the toilet for Jeongin and close it again. If the kid was going to stay with him for any length of time, he was going to assure as much of his privacy as possible. Jeongin had briefly mentioned siblings, an older brother and a younger, so having some space and time to himself would be a luxury all its own. 

Twenty minutes and a clean pair of socks later, Changbin tossed a cleaned-up Jeongin a spare hoodie and ushered him out the apartment door, mentioning something of a good diner to stop at not far from the show venue. The younger boy wormed his way into the warm clothing, breathing in the faint cinnamon smell that lingered in it and smiling to himself from behind the hood. Flagging down a cab, the older of the pair got them both tucked inside and gave the driver directions to a spot far uptown from where they were. When Jeongin gave him an odd look, he shrugged and said something about not wanting to wait for a bus in the cold. 

Dinner at the diner was a subdued affair, more focused on fueling up energy needed for the evening on Changbin’s part and stuffing down butterfly-like nerves on Jeongin’s. The older answered any questions the younger had about the night ahead and, by the time they left for the last trek to the venue, the blue-haired boy was actually transitioning from nervousness to actual excitement. Well, it was either that or the three glasses of fizzy soda and one cup of coffee the younger had had with dinner. Changbin chuckled and let him have his fun as they walked the last few blocks. 

The venue was an older theater, the kind that doesn’t show more than the occasional art film, but is open to rent for a variety of community needs. Tonight there was a thumping of bass already coming from inside as they strolled up to the doors. Stopping at the booth at the front of the building, Changbin spoke briefly to the young woman attending it, sliding a few bills across the plexi-glass fronted counter before she gestured towards the doors. Jeongin watched with barely restrained energy, rocking on the balls of his feet until Changbin gave him a thumbs-up. 

“We’re set. Just had to get us an entry so I can go sign up and we can get you a spot. C’mon, kid.” Changbin pulled the theater’s door open and tugged on Jeongin’s sleeve to corral the bouncing boy inside the building and out of the wind. The sound of bass thumped louder as they walked into the lobby with its black tile floor and carefully maintained red velour walls. Changbin had been to this one several times so he smiled at the familiar surroundings as he led Jeongin through it and off to one side where a pair of folding tables were set up and manned by two older men. 

One of them looked and brightened up at seeing Changbin, rising from his seat and leaning over the table to hold an arm out. “SpearB! My man! Heard you were s’posed to show tonight, I hoped that was right. How goes, bro?” Changbin grinned sharply and leaned over as he neared, grabbing the extended hand in his and pulling the other into a one-armed hug. Jeongin watched, blinking, as the older boy’s demeanor shifted into one noticeably sharper and darker than before. His presence had shifted to one that seemed to command a certain measure of respect and it was more than a little intimidating. 

“Same as always, Nate. Working hard and hardly working.” came the reply, clapping the older man’s back before Changbin pulled back to gesture a thumb at Jeongin. “Showing a friend around tonight, letting him see the scene. Going to get him set before the show starts. Where do I need to sign tonight?” Jeongin wiggled the fingers of one hand, just barely poking out of a hoodie sleeve, and was rewarded with a toothy, gold-edged grin from Nate. 

“Left side’s for guests tonight, not many here yet so you can get him a front row if you want. Have fun, kid. Wait until you see this one spit, you’re in for a treat when SpearB’s on the mic.” Nate winked while his table partner chuckled and directed Changbin’s attention to a sign up sheet and a waiver form. Gesturing for Jeongin to stick with him, Changbin bent over the table to sign where needed, letting the other man get a cell-phone pic of his ID and exchanging some idle chit-chat. 

Before long they were waving to the two and heading into the theater itself. Jeongin looked up and around at the well-outfitted theater as they walked through the doors, more than a little awestruck at being in such relatively plush surroundings. Changbin’s facade broke just long enough to tug on the boy’s sleeve and give him a reassuring smile as he lead them down the aisle to the guest seating area. 

“Here you go kid. Front row seats to a good time. I’ll stick around for a few before I head backstage. I think we’ve got about twenty before more folks show up. How you doing?” the silver-blue haired boy watched as Jeongin picked out his seat, more towards the theater’s center aisle, and settled into it. He perched himself on the armrest of the next seat over and regarded the younger. 

“This… this is huge. I didn’t get to anything like this as a kid, so it’s kinda overwhelming.” Jeongin piped up just as a break in the thumping music came, half-shouting before modulating his voice for the change in volume. “You do this a lot? The guy out there called you SpearB.” 

“Yeah, stage name, street name, whatever you want to call it. Lots of artists out here do that. Sometimes they are plays on their own names, where they came from, things that are important to them. It’s different for everyone.” Rubbing at the side of his nose, Changbin shrugged without elucidating on why he chose his own name. “And yeah, I do this a lot. It’s a passion of mine.” 

Jeongin was about to answer more to that when a flash of color caught the edge of his vision and distracted, mouth half-open as his eyes swivelled to catch the crimson towards the back of the theater. Blue-grey eyes narrowed first, then widened sharply and his hand shot out to latch onto Changbin’s sleeve, causing the older boy to frown before turning to follow the younger’s line of sight. 

Dark eyes saw the same head of crimson hair and then took in the darker-haired figure to its right just in time to meet another pair of dark eyes above squirrelly cheeks. Even across the distance, the recognition hit like a bolt of lightning. 

**“HOLY SHIT, CHAN! THERE HE IS!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will hopefully take me less time, but eventually we'll get all the boys in one place. I promise! 
> 
> Come say hi on Twitter, I can always use more mutuals. :) @ginnokage


	9. We’re In Different Places With the Same Dream

Silence reigned in the theater for the span of a few breaths, the shout having almost echoed from back to front and turning several heads at once. Four pairs of eyes met across the space between and one mouth was suddenly the receiver of a cautiously smacked hand. The thumping of the bass for the next song distracted everyone else quickly enough and the tense moment passed… mostly. 

“Could you be any louder?” Chan hissed, tossing apologetic looks to anyone in range before tugging on Jisung’s sleeve to pull him across the back of the theater and down the center aisle. There was no mistaking the pair down in the front row, especially the blue hair on the one sitting down who watched them with wary, fox-like eyes. The one standing ran fingers through the sweep of his silver-blue hair and followed their progress down with sharp eyes. Neither figure moved towards them, letting the red-head lead his muffled compatriot closer to them. 

“I’m sorry about that, guys. That was -not- how I wanted that to go.” Chan said, projecting his voice just enough to be heard over the music without shouting, pulling Jisung up beside him and letting go of the younger boy’s mouth. Jisung glared half-heartedly at Chan and shrugged before smiling at the two guarded faces in front of them. 

“Sorry, sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain. At least that doesn’t happen on stage too much.” Jisung quipped, running a hand through his rainbow-streaked hair before shoving both hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Too much?” The dark-eyed boy quipped back, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth above his sharp chin. A bit of chuckling ran through the other two as they came to a stop within easier speaking distance. His free hand came to rest on the shoulder of the boy sitting beside him reassuringly before he gestured with said chin towards Jisung. “Got me at a bit of a disadvantage. You seem to know me…”

“We didn’t think we’d run into you so soon when we got here… but we were actually looking for you. Both of you, actually… but honestly didn’t expect to find you in the same place.” Chan let Jisung go and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly with one hand, extending the other out in front of him with only a slight reticence. “Bang Chan. CB97’s my stage name. I tend to fringe around these things looking for talent.”

Beside him, Jisung’s squirrel-cheeks puffed up as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “J.One. Han Jisung. I think I might have seen you perform once or twice, but nothing ever clicked before.” He kept his hands to himself, instead watching to see if Chan’s was accepted before making any other move. 

“Well, those names I know, heard them tossed around even if I never got to meet either of you face to face. Seo Changbin, SpearB. I’m on the list tonight, so you’ll forgive me if I head backstage here in a bit?” Changbin took Chan’s hand in his, both of their eyes widening at the familiar electric shock that rippled up their arms. Changbin’s wary expression eased noticeably with the contact and he looked up slightly in to Chan’s paler eyes with relief. “Think you can watch the kid while I’m gone? I’d feel better if he’s not alone.”

“Are they?” came the voice from below all of them, all eyes turning to the blue-haired boy who’d scooted to the edge of his theater seat to watch the exchange. Grey-blue eyes looked hopeful as Changbin released Chan’s hand and reached over to ruffle the boy’s hair and give a nod in response. “Oh, good. Yang Jeongin. No extra names here, I’m nobody special.” The ruffling was traded for the lightest of smacks and Jeongin grinned up at Changbin. 

“Not special? Let us be the judge of that, huh?” Jisung flopped down into the seat to Jeongin’s right, settling between the open aisle and the other boy. Reaching over, he offered his own hand and smiled when Jeongin took it gingerly. Both of their shoulders relaxed visible to the two still standing and the tension present in the air around all four of them dissipated quickly. “I think we’re all kinda special. I mean, I don’t get static shocks when I meet most new people on the street… nor do I see them in my dreams.”

Chan knocked his knee against Jisungs gently at that and Changbin looked around briefly to see if anyone was paying attention to their conversation. The two older boys were obviously a bit more concerned with letting on to what was going on between the four of them if their expressions were any good way to judge. Jeongin reached over and grabbed Jisung’s hand nervously and dark eyes met blue-grey. Jisung bit on his lip with an apologetic expression. 

“Sorry, like I said, mouth before brain. I’ll keep that between us for now.” 

Jeongin gave the most reassuring smile he could around his own nervousness, eyes leaving Jisung’s to flick around the theater. People were starting to filter in around them, seats filling up in the rows behind them and even seats along their row. He looked up to Changbin and raised both eyebrows expectantly, knowing that time was ticking away for the rapper. 

“Shit, you’re right, kid. I should go. Enjoy the show, okay? I think you’re in good hands with these two.” Changbin gave a joking wince and, with a brief wave to Chan and Jisung, took off for the backstage of the theater to get ready. Chan tossed a thumbs-up to him as he turned and settled into the seat on Jeongin’s left, giving the boy’s knee a friendly pat. 

“First time at one of these, huh? They get a little rowdy, but the crowd’s usually pretty good. Unless someone’s tanking… then they get a little vicious.” Chan leaned over and spoke into Jeongin’s ear, taking advantage of a lull in the music to have a somewhat quieter exchange. He felt the boy’s head nod in acknowledgement even as the knee under his hand jiggled fitfully. “You going to be okay? Is it all the people in here?”

“Yeah… I’m not a big fan of crowds. Avoid them as much as I can. But I trust Changbin… and at the moment, I trust you guys even if now is not the time to go over why.” Jeongin replied, reaching down and taking a hold of Chan’s hand against his knee. The tingling of the contact seemed to reinforce the moment and calmed the boy’s anxiety a bit, bringing him to settle back into the theater seat and lean slightly towards the redhead. 

“I can’t wait to see who’s on the list tonight. I’ve heard SpearB’s stuff a time or two, legit bars being spit there.” Jisung piped up, leaning against the seat-arm between him and Jeongin to make sure Chan could hear him. He gestured briefly to the stage and grinned broadly, “Surprised you haven’t gotten him in a studio yet.” 

“I think if I had we would’ve solved one part of our mutual mystery by now, y’know?” Chan tossed back, grey eyes twinkling in the lights from the stage. The three of them conversed back and forth a bit as the theater continued to fill, mostly talking about the local underground talent and getting Jeongin up to speed on how the night was likely to go. The three of them all agreed that there’d be time after the show to get up to speed on each other, the noise and lack of privacy in the theater starting to make casual conversation impossible. 

The glare of stage lights took over their attention quickly, eyes on the stage as the night’s emcee strolled out onto the worn wood. Whoops and hollers from the crowd around them greeted his arrival along with intro music that was timed to his footsteps towards the center of the stage. The dark-skinned man with slightly greying dreadlocks, clad head to toe in a mish-mash of black and neon colors, held a cordless mic in his hands and grinned broadly as he started to work the crowd up. He read a few notes from a card in his hand, going briefly over the night’s lineup and gauging the response to names as he read them. 

Jeongin’s eyes were dazzled for the next two hours by the array of talented men and women who came across the stage. One of his hands held tightly onto Chan’s for most of the show and the redhead grinned across him at Jisung, nodding subtly to the way the stage lights glittered in the younger boy’s grey-blue eyes. Jisung laughed brightly and took up the boy’s free hand, as much to keep him grounded in his seat as anything else. This didn’t keep all three from getting up on their feet now and then to jump up and down with the rest of the crowd with certain performers. The atmosphere was infectious and staying seated was very difficult with the energy running rampant through the crowd. 

When Changbin’s turn came, midway through the show, all three were practically on the edge of their seats. Jeongin was vibrating with excitement, his earlier nervousness with the crowds mostly forgotten with the displays in front of him. He had both Chan and Jisung hands in his grasp again, both boys not seeming to mind how tightly he held on as he leaned forward towards the stage. Chan’s hand was somehow cool and grounding on his left while Jisung’s was intensely warm on his right. Some small part of his mind noted the difference, but the bigger part of him was simply entranced. 

All three gave strong-voiced whoops when the silver-blue-haired rapper was announced, the lights dimming slightly as he strolled out into a purposefully orchestrated blue-washed spotlight. The color almost made his hair glow and lent an velvet look to the black clothing he wore, glinting with an almost electric shine off the small metal accents from zippers or studs. This Changbin was very different from the easy-going boy of just an hour before, he exuded a darkness as his voice growled through his intro. Dark eyes glittered with a barely restrained shadow beneath the sweep of his hair as he held the mic to his lips and laid his words on the crowd. 

“When does he breathe?” Chan squeezed Jeongin’s hand as he half-laughed out the question, looking up at the rapper on the stage with barefaced respect. Jeongin just shook his head, expression awed as he grinned upwards. Changbin briefly caught his eye mid-line and tossed him a wink before bounding across to another part of the stage. Jisung whooped a loud encouragement up towards the stage, rewarded with a brief gesture from Changbin as he moved about the stage. The crowd was lively around them and the noise threatened to lift the roof off the theater itself. 

Then all Jeongin heard was silence, an abrupt lack of sound that was almost as enthralling as the show itself had been. Turning his head from side to side, he realized that things seemed frozen around him. Even Chan and Jisung were stock still next to him, the grasp he had on each of their hands keeping him pinned in place. 

No, they weren’t frozen, not really. As he stared at Chan’s profile, struggling to try and free his hand, he realized that the other boy was barely moving. Ceasing his own movements for a moment, he watched as the red-head’s eyes went through a blink that was almost like watching a frame-by-frame film for it’s slowness. Swivelling to look at Jisung, he watched the light ripple with an agonizingly stretched span of time across the rainbow swathes in the boy’s hair. Lastly, he glanced up towards where Changbin was on stage, the freeze having caught the rapper in the midst of a half-jump so that he appeared to be levitating upwards. 

The breath caught in Jeongin’s throat for a moment, his brow wrinkling in a puzzled frown as he watched time seem to stretch around him. A tingling sensation grew from his trapped hands, growing stronger with each beat of his heart to a thrum that seemed on par with the thump of the bass in the theater. He tried to jerk his hands away from the sensation but couldn’t escape the feeling travelling up his arms and settling into a knot at the back of his skull with a growing pressure. 

He was about to squeeze his eyes shut when his vision whited out completely, erasing his view of the crowd, the stage, even the boys beside him. Harsh beats of his heart passed faster than he could count them and then came the colors. 

From his left, a deep green washed into his vision, the color of leafy trees, shaded grass. A grounding feeling came with it, a balance that tried to root him and give him stability. From his right, a crimson red that washed in with heat, an unseen fire licking along with it that warmed a part of him he hadn’t realized was cold. The two seemed almost at odds with the third that swept in from in front of him, an inky darkness that was more the absence of color than it was any one shade. There was a brief spark of fear that lit in him as it pooled and mingled with the green and red before a tendril of it seemed to reach out and caress his cheek. It was cool but it simply lingered briefly, almost like a reassuring hand, before it retreated.

It took another span of heartbeats before another color joined the three, he only realized after half a second that the color was his own. A silvery blue spilled from him towards the others, rippling like a spreading fog until it touched green, red, and black. Then it blended at the edges, lending its pale light to compliment each. In the center where all four touched at one time, they began to swirl together into a small ball. The surface of it pooled each of the colors like a glass marble and then sharply sucked each cloud of color into itself with a faint ‘pop’. 

Sound returned to Jeongin’s ears with a thundering crash and he jolted in his seat with the onslaught. Fingers tightened on each of his hands at the same time and Chan and Jisung met eyes just ahead of the blue-haired boy’s face, each wearing an expression that mixed shock and confusion. A thump from the stage and a brief shake of Changbin’s voice on stage were the only other clue that something eventful had just happened. 

Jeongin briefly locked his wide-eyed gaze on the dark-eyed rapper who was scrambling to finish his song from his half-crouch on the stage. Changbin licked his lips quickly, tried to ignore a mouth gone completely dry, and pulled the rest of his performance together. He left the stage to thunderous applause, but it did nothing to ease the sudden pounding in his heart and ears as he walked into the darkness offstage. He wasn’t there to see Jeongin half-fainting into his seat between Chan and Jisung, nor the way the two older boys cautiously made the younger comfortable between them for the remainder of the show.

\----------

  
  


“Really, guys. I’m fine. I’m just tired.” 

“Tired. Right. That’s why you’re riding on Chan’s back and not walking right now, kid.” 

Jeongin huffed a breath out, annoyance in the gesture even as his chin rested on the hoodie-clad shoulder of the eldest of their erstwhile group. His blue hair mingled with Chan’s red as he let his head rest sideways as they bounced slightly along the sidewalk. Changbin was close on his left, one hand on Jeongin’s back and doing most of the talking, and Jisung on his right with hands shoved deep into the front pocket of his hoodie. 

They’d managed to get out of the theater and into a cab with relative ease after the show, the youngest boy having handled walking for most of that. They’d loosely agreed on Chan’s apartment as their destination since it was closer and, the older assured, big enough to hold the four of them for the evening. All had been reasonably good until they went to get out of the cab and Jeongin’s legs declared they were done holding him upright after having been squished in the middle of the back seat. 

Now they were making the short trip up to Chan’s brownstone, Jisung holding out a hand for the keys and darting ahead to get the door. Chan made a small noise about using the ancient elevator this once since he was not equipped to carry a nearly-grown boy up three flights of stairs. He sent Changbin and Jisung up ahead of him, with quiet instructions for one of them to get some hot water going for drinks and the take-out folder. 

Shuffling into the elevator with his long-limbed passenger, Chan pulled the old metal grating closed and turned the key that was all but permanently affixed in its place to kick the power on. A quick thumb of his floor and the old metal contraption lurched once before smoothly, if slowly, ascending the building’s central column. 

“Hate being a burden like this. Not sure what’s up with my body right now.” came the warm murmuring against his cheek from Jeongin. He could feel the faint brush of the boy’s fluttering lashes as his arms tightened slightly around Chan’s shoulders. Chan had his suspicions, but a slight shrug and a smile was all he gave at the moment. 

“Hang on a bit longer, we can talk about this when we’re all a bit more comfortable… and there’s less chance anyone’s listening in. Let them think you had a bit too much or something, it wouldn’t be the worst I’ve seen and heard in this building.” Chan replied barely above a whisper, hiking the boy a bit more securely on his back and eliciting a faintly indignant sound out of him. “Sorry, after tonight I’m a little… paranoid, let’s put it that way.”

Jeongin made a soft rumbling noise of agreement, the tremble of it vibrating against Chan’s back as the elder looked upwards with the slow climb of the elevator. The younger boy glanced slightly to one side at movement, noting Jisung and Changbin talking softly to each other as they more quickly climbed the stairs. Chan’s keyring jingled softly in the younger boy’s hands and his fingers fidgeted with the bits of metal, mirroring the restrained anxiety in his plump-cheeked face. The shorter of the two had his hands shoved firmly into the pockets of his jacket, an alertly listening expression on his own sharp features. 

The trip in the elevator took barely five minutes, but the silence of the late hour hung on all of them until Chan was able to roll the elevator’s grate-door open and step free. There was a brief pause as he closed it behind them and thumbed a small button on the outside that sent it back down the ground floor. Then he shifted Jeongin a bit more securely on his back and walked the short distance to where Changbin was helpfully holding open the door to the apartment. 

Chan went right for the couch in the living area, not setting Jeongin down on his feet until they were in front of it. Jeongin felt a hand on his back as Chan eased him to the floor and half-turned his head to see Changbin’s half-smile below concerned dark eyes. His knees wobbled a bit when his feet touched the floor and he let the silver-haired boy take his arms and ease him down onto the worn furniture. The exhaustion really started to hit about then and he mutely let the borrowed hoodie be pulled off him and a blanket take its place. 

“Thank you.” Jeongin murmured as a cup of tea was pressed into his hands by Jisung, the cup smelling of jasmine and honey and the ceramic seeped its warmth into his fingers comfortingly. He barely registered Changbin’s voice saying the same before he settled onto the couch next to him. His vision was blurring a bit and so he gripped the cup tightly as he sipped at it, not wanting to spill anything. 

There was a series of clicks from the door as Chan did up the locks before joining them all in the living area, collecting a third cup from Jisung and settling into the armchair. Jisung, for his part, sat on the makeshift table in the seating area and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged. The four of them regarded each other silently for a few minutes, questions being thrown between three pairs of eyes along with concerned glances shot towards the youngest among them. 

“What the hell was _that_ , earlier?” Jisung broke the silence sharply, fingers tapping anxiously against the side of the cup in his hands. The softer lighting in Chan’s apartment muted the rainbow coloring in his hair as his free hand brushed it away from his face. “I know we all kinda got the shock when we shook hands, but that was something entirely different.”

“Did you two feel it more strongly than I did? I was up on stage and it just felt like someone pulled the floor out from under me and then stuck my finger in a light socket.” Changbin replied after a sip of tea to ground himself, his left hand reaching next to him to rest on Jeongin’s blanket-covered leg. When all he got in response was a faintly owlish blink from the younger, he frowned and gave the boy’s knee a quick rub. “I gather it took more out of Jeongin… kinda like he was the epicenter or something.”

Chan shifted sideways in the chair, draping one leg over the arm and pulling his other foot up beneath him. “It really felt like getting hit by something heavy, but it didn’t hurt. It also felt oddly like… something opened up inside. You know, kinda like the feeling when you turn a key in a lock and it catches?” He made a motion with his hand to accompany it, flicking harder to mimic the opening moment. 

“Everything just… stopped.”

The soft voice from their youngest startled them all for a moment, none of the older trio having expected much out of the exhausted looking blue-grey eyes. It was hard to ignore the slight tremble in the hands that clung to Jeongin’s cup, nor the distant look in his eyes as he robotically took a sip of the warm liquid. None of them prodded him verbally for more, but Changbin’s fingers delicately squeezed his knee in reassurance. 

In the same soft, breathy voice, he told them of what he saw and felt during that moment that all of them felt. From the moment time froze for him to the moment it started again, he repeated every moment from memory that was still crystal clear. When he came to colors, his slightly-glassy eyes looked briefly at each of them with realization. 

“Chan was green, like earth, forests, plants. Jisung was red, warm like fire. Changbin was shades of grey and black, like darkness and shadows. I was silver-blue, and my color tried to blend and change with all of the others. Then they made this little marble that sucked into the colors and then popped.”

“That’s about when I almost fell on stage, I think. Felt like someone physically pulled the world out from under me.” Changbin murmured, watching as Jeongin drained the last of his tea and lowered the cup. He reached over and plucked it free of the boy’s fingers, noting the lack of struggle at doing so and how Jeongin’s eyelids were drooping. He wordlessly handed the cup to Jisung and pulled the blanket-shrouded form against his shoulder. “Rest, kid. We’ll figure out the rest.”

Blue hair spread against Changbin’s shoulder and fell over Jeongin’s eyes as he let out a small breath and closed them. The three older boys watched him for a few minutes hawkishly, three sets of shoulders relaxing minutely when the younger boy’s breaths evened out into sleep. 

“Seriously, what the hell is going on, and why is this all happening  _ now _ ? The four of us have been in this city for months now, we’ve all been having these damned dreams… were we just supposed to stumble into each other?” Jisung practically stage-whispered, voice low to avoid waking their sleeper but still intense and anxious. He set the empty cup he’d been handed down on the table next to him and fingered the rim of his own. “We’ve all seen four more faces in our dreams, how the hell are we going to find  _ them _ ? This city is huge. Us four meeting was more luck than anything else.”

“I… I really don’t know, Ji. I know I didn’t wake up one morning expecting to walk out and meet someone I’d only seen in my dreams, let alone three more.” Chan spoke softly, tilting his cup in a circle and watching the tea in it swirly lazily. His grey eyes focused on the slowly moving golden liquid for a breath or two before sliding sideways to the sleeping boy. “I don’t like that he was essentially a lightning rod tonight. He’s the most fragile out of all of us, I can tell. I worry about what finding others might do to him if what happened during the show was anything to go by.”

“At the same time, we all know the dreams and nightmares have been getting worse for months. I’ve honestly almost forgotten what a good night’s sleep is.” Changbin rumbled, draining his own cup of tea before resting his head gently against Jeongin’s. “I’m worried about him, too… but if something is pulling all of us together, what happens if we  _ don’t _ find the others? I mean, most of this has been up in our heads until tonight, barring when our hands met. It felt like something was making its presence known if I had to put words to what that felt like.”

“He mentioned colors and it seemed like there were elements with them.” Chan said, looking back at his tea as if using it as a focus for his thoughts. “I remember seeing colors on each of you in my dreams. What he saw matches each of you, and his color was always in his eyes… regardless of what form he was in...” Trailing off abruptly, his eyes flicked sharply to each of them and he sat up sharply in the chair. 

“What? What did you just figure out?” Jisung leaned forward towards the red-head, lower lip getting nibbled on. Changbin, already avoiding moving to keep from disturbing Jeongin, went dead still as he regarded the eldest among them. One brow raised slightly as if mirroring Jisung’s question, fingers toying with the handle of his empty cup.

“Ji, yours was red. Fire. Dreams with you were always fire-based. The last one I had we were trapped in a burning room and couldn’t get out.” Chan whispered, repressing the spike of fear that tried to rise in him when remembering that dream. The hiss of breath from Jisung seemed to unconsciously echo the feeling and he took a deep breath before moving on. 

  
“Changbin, yours always involved darkness, shadow, an absence of light that seemed alive. I think the last I remember with yours had you trying to convince something in them to obey you and save me in kind.” Chan glanced to the sharp-chinned boy and held his gaze, watching as the dark eyes went subtly wider. There was a small noise from Jisung as he murmured something that backed up Chan’s dream.

“Jeongin… was a shapechanger. I’ve seen him as so many animals, but the silver-blue he mentioned was always the glow of his eyes in any of them. He was always protecting me, selflessly.” They couldn’t help but turning their gazes on the youngest, both appraising and fond for the skinny form under the blanket. The look they shared afterward seemed to confirm that they’d all be willing to protect him just as selflessly. 

“What about the other four, Chan? I think I remember one was water, one was air or wind, another was Changbin’s opposite with light, and I’m kinda iffy on what exactly the fourth one was. Energy? Healing?” Jisung murmured before glancing down at his own hands, turning one back and forth and fixing it with a look as if flames were going to sprout from it.

“Those match with what I remember, too. The water one was really tall, had blonde hair and blue eyes. The air one was dark-haired, he moved like a dancer.” Changbin replied, glancing to one side at the shadows in the room thoughtfully as he spoke. “The light one had pale hair too, but a bit more silver tint like mine. The last one also had dark hair and eyes, very gentle and thoughtful. Healing would fit what I remember.”

“Blue, yellow, silver/gold, amber. Well.. we’ve got the rainbow colored if Ji ever changes his hair.” Chan said, smiling when Jisung made a noise of mock-indignation and flattened a hand on his hair. “They have to be somewhere in this city. Ji mentioned he didn’t really have the dreams until he came here and I think he’s the newest in the city out of all of us. If… whatever this is needed us all in one place, that might be why things have been getting more intense.”

“That really makes me worried that something’s going to happen. Why does something need eight of us, tease us with abilities, and make us find each other like needles in a haystack?” Jisung’s voice held a note of frustration as he lowered his hand, flapping the fingers agitatedly. “I don’t know the city that well so I have no idea where we’d even think to look.” 

“We have to hope that they’ve found each other, too. That’d be ideal. Maybe whatever’s been giving us all the dreams will give us a clue?” Chan finished off his cooled tea with a few quick swallows and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sudden weariness. “But we’re not going to find out anything until Jeongin wakes up. I don’t know about you two, but I hope he sleeps for a bit. I thought I was going to be hungry right now but right now I want my pillow. It’s a rarity that I’m falling asleep before two in the morning, but I’m going to listen this time”

“The bed you let me use is big enough for two, Chan. I can see Changbin’s about to zonk on Jeongin’s head, they can have it and I’ll take the couch tonight.” Jisung nodded with his head to where the other rapper’s dark eyes were starting to droop where he rested against the blue-haired boy’s head. Jeongin was still very much asleep, the chatter having done nothing to wake him. 

“I have enough energy left to carry him, don’t worry about me. Kid just deserves a bed for once, he had my couch last night. If you’re okay with swapping, Jisung, That works for me.” Changbin snorted and stifled a yawn, catching the agreeable nod from the younger and carefully shifting to collect Jeongin in his arms despite their height difference. He got a bit of help from the other two in getting to his feet and then let Chan steer him towards the spare bedroom. There was a soft conversation and a murmured ‘Good night.’ from Chan as he left the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him but leaving two inches spare.

Ducking into his own room, he snagged a spare pillow and blanket from his bed and returned to the living room. Jisung was collecting the various cups and bustling them back into the kitchen, walking back in with a stifled yawn of his own. He collected the bedding with a grateful smile and plopped the pillow down on the couch. 

“What a night. What a couple of days.” Jisung whispered, clutching the blanket and fingering its softness idly. The anxiety must’ve been plain on his face because suddenly he was half-pressed into a hoodie-clad chest and a hand was cupping his hair. He stiffened slightly in surprise before relaxing into the contact that tingled against his scalp.    


“I know. But I think we’ll do better now that some of us are together.” Chan whispered in kind, voice right next to Jisung’s ear as he carefully hugged the younger boy. He half-smiled when an arm snaked around his waist in return and gave a cautious squeeze. “Get some sleep, tomorrow’s another day and we can figure out where we go next with this, okay?”

Jisung made a small noise of assent before they pulled apart and Chan gently ruffled his hair. The older made sure he was settled on the couch, practically tucked in and eyes drooping before murmuring a good night and heading off to his own room. Turning out the last of the lights plunged the apartment into a darkness barely lit by the faint glow of streetlights through the slats of the window blinds. 

Silence fell over the apartment not long after, broken only by the soft sounds of four boys deeply asleep. 

\------

Much later that morning, they slowly woke to a grey sky with the last tinges of sunrise softening its edges. The cold wind outside threatened to seep through the brownstone’s old windows, colder than the night that had preceded it. Thunder rolled ominously in the distance with the promise of a coming storm. 

Across town, the other four that had long since greeted the day met each others eyes over breakfast as a singular thought hit them all. 

_ Now. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Whew... starting to think a 2-week schedule may be best for posting chapters, mostly with my job sucking most of my writing energy most nights. 
> 
> Next couple of chapters WILL see all eight meeting up, I'm so excited to get to this point! Also, I have a weak spot for protecting Jeongin. Get used to it. ;) No, he's not my bias, he is just baby.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me!
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	10. They Say Time Will Solve Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I banged this chapter out on a combination of Hyunjin's SKZ-Record and a listen/watch of TSO's recent LiveStream. Little Star and Christmas Eve Sarajevo factored heavily in the feels for this chapter.

Rain lashed the street outside the dance studio, the repetitive drumming of it against the windows broken by the occasional flash of lightning and dull echo of thunder. Grey skies had prevailed over the city for a few days now, most of them filled with rain and storms of some nature. The late fall cold had yet to push the wetness over the edge into snow and the general consensus was that everyone was thankful for that. 

Minho felt the rumble of thunder brush against the window as he leaned his back against it, watching over his last class of the afternoon with his thoughts otherwise a million miles away. It hadn’t even been a handful of days since that moment in his apartment but the itch at the back of his head had yet to dissipate. The weather had hampered any efforts he and the other three could get in their heads to search out their final four. Trying to get to and from their various classes in the frequent downpours had been hard enough, none of them wanting to get sick on top of everything else. 

To say that the four of them were frustrated by the fourth day of rain and storms was putting it mildly. Their evening meet-ups for dinner had been chock full of venting out pressures of their individual days. They’d all agreed that keeping in touch that way was better than just checking in by phone after the first day they spent apart. There’d been a constant distracting pull to be near each other that had only seemed to ease when they met back at Minho’s apartment. It’d been agreed that his was the largest space out of the four of them. Minho wouldn’t outright admit it, but it was somewhat comforting to have company in the evenings. 

Seungmin had been swamped at the cafe with the foul weather to the point that he’d had to put off his vocal lessons. The lack of creative outlet was already starting to weigh on him, the soft smiles and laughs traded for a somewhat colder demeanor and snarky responses to questions. He was quiet most of their nights together, sitting with his sketchbook and scrawling remembered snippets of dreams into the fresh pages. 

Felix usually showed up to their evenings wrapped in enough layers that he looked more like a marshmallow than a person, adding his soaked umbrella to the plastic bin by the door. His own sunny disposition was dampened as much by the rain as frustration on any given day. At least one night he spent stretched out on the couch while Hyunjin or Minho worked the cramps out of his calves from going from warm-roomed dance practices to cold streets between classes. 

Hyunjin ended up meeting Minho at the studio most nights so the two could make the trek back together. He’d relayed on their first night walking back that some of his instructors had been pulled out and it had put their finals and ride-along training on hold indefinitely. There hadn’t been much of an explanation as to why and it had him a bit on edge. A couple of nights he passed the time waiting for Minho in one of the unused practice rooms, burning off the nervous energy. 

Minho threw himself into work as much as possible as a distraction, taking on a couple of extra classes at the studio to keep his mind from wandering too much during the day. The tugging sensation that tried to pull him out onto the street at various points during his day was maddening and seemed to get more insistent by the day. Even now, as he leaned his back against the faintly thrumming glass, he could feel the pull in his chest urging him to walk out onto the soaked street for who knows where. 

Folding his arms across his chest, he watched as the small class of young girls worked through their cooldowns. He took in the easy smiles they gave to each other as they drew down the energy of their class before preparing to leave for the day. Minho found himself realizing just how much he’d been on his own in the last year between the drive to finish his studies and his job at the studio. Until he’d met the other three, a lot of his nights had been spent quietly in his apartment with a book and maybe some music on his phone. He hadn’t had much spare time to socialize and what few friends he had were in much the same spot so they rarely saw each other.

Now he’d had three other boys, young men really if he wanted to go by their ages, crammed into his once-quiet apartment and filling it with noise that he wasn’t used to. He wouldn’t trade it for the world, he admitted to himself, but the transition had been so sudden that it still left him a little on edge. It’s hard to adjust to the presence of others when you’ve been alone for so long. Minho felt the edges of his mouth curl up in a fond smile and rested his head against the glass gently. 

Before long the class was packing up their bags and stopping by one by one to say goodbye before their parents whisked them away into the early evening. He moved away from the window to make sure each girl, most of them barely ten years behind him in age, was bundled up against the rain and were confirmed for next week’s class. Once the last of them was gone, he crossed the room to where the computer was that held the music for the classes and rifled through the playlist. Some practice would help center his head for a while until Hyunjin came by, the last message on his phone saying he was going to be a little late from class that night but would be by around 6:30 that night. 

He had about half an hour, he guessed. Enough time to get in three or four songs, with breaks in between, before the other dancer arrived so they could make the trip home. He picked out a few songs from the list, deciding on a few to get his heart rate up and one softer to wind down before Hyunjin would show up. The first few were popular tracks, hip hop beats with backing melodies that gave him time to work on both sharp, concentrated moves as well as slower, more sensual ones. He forewent some of the more strenuous moves that he might have put into actual performances, moving his body on memory through the rest with practiced ease. After the last, he paused to make sure the volume was up for the last one, knowing it was a softer tune than the rest. 

The soft strains of guitar picked out a gentle melody that filtered into the empty studio, the sound of plucked strings and a gentle, breathy voice reverberating delicately between the worn wood floor and the mirrors. As he turned away from the computer screen, his eyes ghosted over the track name with a faint smile. ‘Little Star’ it read, scrolling across the small player window in its fine print in both English and Korean. As Minho paced gradually towards the center of the room and shook his hands out, he let the first few lines of the song wash over him. 

When a soft piano joined the mix, he began to move languidly, arms sweeping back and forth around his body as his eyes closed slightly. His feet skimmed the floor as he danced into the breadth of the song, easing forward into lunges and arching his back to reach for the sky. Something relaxed in his chest as he opened up his shoulders and turned in a slow pirouette, one leg stretched out behind him. The soft snaps of fingers were his punctuation for small jumps and glides across the floor, using the whole of the dance space around him as he moved. 

As was often the case when Minho danced to relax, it seemed like time stretched around him. The only things that mattered were the song, his muscles stretching and pulling with movement, and the steady beat of his heart. So the sudden yank he felt in his midsection in the midst of a turn caught him off-guard and sent him sprawling to the floor, one arm barely coming out in front of him to keep his chin from smacking against the wood. This was more than the insistent urge that had paced him for the past four days. This was a sharp, painful pull that he swore was strong enough that his body should have simply moved out the door as if on a string. 

The end of the song whispered out behind him as he lay on the floor, panting both from the exertion and the pain that throbbed from a point between his heart and his stomach. Silence reigned in the studio aside from his gasps for breath as he slowly curled in on himself, willing the pain to ease long enough to let him up. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there on the floor, sweat pooling against skin gone clammy and cold from the sudden shock. Turning his head towards the clock on the wall over the door, he realized that Hyunjin should be there soon but he probably had only been down for only a few minutes. 

The sharp pain continued as he pushed himself to his feet, shaking a little as he slowly moved through the room, turning off the computer, switching his dance shoes for his street shoes, and grabbing his hoodie. The pain didn’t worsen as he moved, so he found himself getting somewhat used to its presence as he pulled the hoodie over his head and collected his bag. Pulling a small towel out of it, he wiped it over his face a few times and headed for the door. The stairs down were a challenge as he legs wanted to shake the entire way, but by the time he got down them he was composed enough to walk through the lobby with some measure of composure. 

Some part of him registered that he should be waiting for Hyunjin, but the pain in his middle was drawing him out the studio doors and onto the street. The downpour was still in full force, small streams of water filling the gutters along the roadway and passing cars throwing up small sprays as they hit puddles of it in the street. Minho could feel the fabric of his hoodie soaking quickly, but the tugging sensation was stronger, taking over his body and turning his feet. He walked towards the nearest corner, pausing beneath the bright colors of the stoplight there and pushing back his hood. 

He stared across the street in a daze, the rain plastering his hair to his head and streaming in rivulets down his face and into the collar of the sweat-soaked shirt beneath. Through the grey of the rain and the blur of passing cars, he caught a glimpse of red hair on the other side of the street. He couldn’t make out the features, but the sharpness of the color triggered something in his memory. His breath slowed and it seemed as if time did as well as his foot stepped off of the curb into the street, heedless of the glaring orange sign above his head that glared ‘Don’t Walk’. 

“MINHO! NO!”

\-----

The groan of frustration resounded in the small studio, followed by the clatter of plastic as headphones dropped on the table. Leaning forward, Chan propped his head up on his hands, elbows resting on the table as he buried his fingers in his hair. The track just wasn’t working, something was off and he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. 

No. He knew what was wrong. Four days had passed and they were no closer to finding their other four than they were four days prior. The weather was no help, as he and the other three had enough sense of preservation to know that running around in the cold and wet was going to do nothing more than put them all under the weather. Then nobody would be finding anybody and it’d make things even more strained. 

The studio he was in was windowless, the tiles on the wall muffling most of the sound from outside, but Chan knew that if he took even a short walk out the door he’d be able to see the way the rain drummed incessantly on the windows. What he wouldn’t give for a patch of sun right now, maybe even a rainbow to break up the dreariness and maybe give him his focus back. He didn’t have Jisung for company today, the younger rapper having decided to spend the day at Changbin’s music shop helping out. Not that the latter was having much more luck with business, foot traffic not being the most certain of things when the weather was bad. 

Add in the incessant nagging feeling they’d all had that they just  _ had _ to find the other four and it was surprising tempers weren’t higher. Chan covered his eyes with his hands and sighed lowly, trying to force the tension out of his shoulders even as the sensation of needing to ‘go’ rippled down his spine. It was maddening when the waves of it hit, but at least with three creative minds in their group, there was an outlet for some of them. They were going back and forth between Chan’s apartment and Changbin’s over the past four days, sharing the load on each other’s kitchens and catching sleep where they could.

Changbin had been filling small notepads with lyrics when they had spare moments, often caught rapping in a soft whisper before scratching more words down. Between that and a spur-of-the-moment decision to reorganize a couple of sections at the music store, he’d managed to tamp down most of the snappish attitude that had threatened behind his dark eyes. 

Jisung was not far behind him with scribbling down lyrics, the thick notebook he’d kept in the bag that he always kept with him. The bright, inquisitive attitude the rainbow-haired boy had displayed at first gradually grew subdued and quiet as the days past. Any anxiety he seemed to have was turned inwards and he was more often found with his earbuds in and a slightly haunted expression on his face. 

Comparatively, Jeongin seemed primed for action and it was more of a challenge to get the youngest among them to keep still. While he mostly stayed at Changbin’s apartment most of the day and used the older rapper’s aging laptop, his energy failed to let him sit for very long. He explained most of it away with the fact that he was used to being out on the street, moving from one place to another all day and never settling for long. The itch in the back of his head seemed to elevate that and there were many days that the others found him at whichever apartment they were meeting in that night before any of them had a chance to call him. 

Chan had gotten used to the presence of the other three quite quickly, welcoming the chatter of voices and weathering the drain on his bachelor-level pantry with a smile. On one level, it reminded him of home and the noise of his siblings and gave him a pang of rarely-felt homesickness. On the other, he marvelled at how quickly the three younger boys had taken over the once-cold portion of his heart and warmed it anew. 

Digging his fingers against his eyes, he rubbed them quickly and lowered them to stare at the track again. Resettling the headphones on his ears and clicking the mouse a few times, sound filled his ears and he closed his eyes to let the track wash over him. Letting the deep beat and discordant synth settle into his brain, he fervently hoped for a moment that it’d quiet the voice at the back of his head. His fingers ghosted over the small keyboard in front of him, faintly tapping keys in time with the driving melody and listening as the sound swelled. 

His mouth moved softly along with the vocal tracks that had already been added in, head bobbing as he came to the end of one line and murmured a couple of lines into the quiet of the studio. 

“And so, should I give up? But really, can I give up? We live in a time and space, a world full of blinds, it makes me wanna give up.” He let his eyes closed as he listened through the last of the track, letting his hands fall into his lap and his head bowing as the sound filtered through his ears. There wasn’t anything more the track needed, he realized. His doubts and the stress of the week were getting to him, but the track was perfect. 

Letting his breath out slowly, Chan let the silence descend after the track finished and let himself smile a bit. His fingers rubbed together and against the fabric of his jeans for a few minutes before he opened his eyes and looked back to his laptop. A few more clicks double-saved the file and he shut down the machine. There was a realization in him that he probably wasn’t going to get anymore good work done today. The walk back to his apartment wasn’t going to be pleasant, but he knew a cup of instant noodles would chase some of the cold away. Maybe he’d get lucky and Jeongin would make one of his magical appearances. 

It was a little uncanny that the young boy seemed to always figure out when he needed to be somewhere, but even Jeongin himself didn’t have any good explanation for it. When asked, he just shrugged and said that he just followed his instincts at the time. Chan actually began to hope that maybe those instincts would result in him having company to ease the nagging in his head. 

As he got his things together to leave the studio, tucking his laptop and headphones carefully into his bag, a prickle of chill ran down his spine in discord with the warmth of the heated room. He straightened for a moment and moved a hand towards his back, frowning slightly as his fingers rubbed at the back of the distressed grey sweater he’d thrown on that morning. When the sensation passed, he took the moment to stretch his arms over his head and grunted as his spine popped in places from sitting for a while. 

Then fire erupted in his chest and he doubled over, gasping for breath and grasping at the arm of the small couch at the back of the studio he’d left his bag on. He sank down into a crouch, pressing his head to the faux leather and curling one arm across the span of his midsection. He dully noted that it felt rather like someone had sunk a hook in his chest and begun to pull. Chan’s hand crept up to lay over his heart, briefly concerned that the bulk of it had somehow been wrenched from his body. When only the softness of the sweater met his fingers, he let out a shaky breath and tried to get to his feet. 

He knew he’d crouched there for only a few minutes at most, but the pain stretched every second into minutes and thus into hours in his head. He moved shakily to collect his things, trembling through pulling his jacket over his arms and zipping it up. He distractedly made sure that the flap of his bag was secure over his laptop so it wouldn’t get wet. Before he walked out the door, he caught a glimpse of himself in the small full-length mirror beside it and only faintly registered the dazed expression on his face. He completely passed over the faint green tint to his grey eyes. 

He managed to make it to the elevator and down to the street without attracting too much attention. A few co-workers in the building gave courteous nods as they passed, a few others waved, but none seemed to be taken aback if he didn’t respond to them. Soon he was walking out of the lobby doors, standing on the overhang in front of the company and watching the grey fall of rain drenching the world in front of him. 

Fishing the hood of his jacket free, he tugged it over his head blankly before walking out into the rain. He didn’t realize entirely that he wasn’t walking towards his apartment. He just felt his feet hitting the pavement, the pounding sound of rain in his ears, and the rush of cars on the street nearby. He hadn’t even grabbed his umbrella before he went out, so the rain was sliding in rivulets down the waterproofed fabric of his hooded jacket. It at least meant he wasn’t being soaked to the skin, but it did little against the damp that was everywhere. It did exceedingly little to dull the throbbing pain in his chest and stomach as he put one foot in front of the other. 

He found himself at a stoplight, one hand braced against the pole as the pain spiked for a moment. He leaned his head back and the hood slipped free, rain drumming on his face and soaking his red hair almost instantly. He faintly heard someone shouting nearby and leaned his head back down to peer through the rain ahead of him. The glaring orange of the warning sign across the street flashed at him tauntingly before his eyes slid down to a figure standing just below it. 

Dark hair, slicked with rain, fell into dark eyes that stared across the street at him. The flash of cars passed between them like a metallic river, a barrier of speeding light and sound that abruptly faded away in the moment. Chan stared back, feeling rooted to the spot as the pain inside crescendoed to a throbbing behind his eyes. Recognition swam in his head as months of dreams solidified into the face that was just across four lanes of traffic from him. As his vision began to fuzz at the edges and his legs trembled in place, two things happened. 

The first was another figure running up behind the one his eyes were locked on, blonde hair straggling around wide eyes as hands reaching out to yank the dark-haired figure back just before it stepped in front of a car. The resounding honk of the passing vehicle seemed to snap the other out of his daze as they both stumbled back onto their side of the street. 

The second was the breath in his ear calling his own name frantically, arms wrapped around his torso as he crumpled backwards. He got a glimpse of blue hair and terrified blue-grey eyes before his vision whited out completely. 

“Chan? Chan! No no no, stay with me… please!”

\-----

Seungmin leaned away from the counter, giving it a last pass with the cleaning rag before tossing the rag towards the sink. He watched as it hit with a satisfying slap against the metal and sighed, reaching up to rub the side of his head. The feeling they’d all been having the past few days had started morphing into a migraine in the past few minutes and he was so ready to close up shop and go. He watched his manager cleaning a few tables on the other side of the cafe and let his eyes unfocus a bit, trying to relax at least a little. 

He was doing well with a few slow breaths when his back pocket vibrated with a message. Pulling it free, he looked at the lock screen to see the group chat they’d started had two new messages in it, one from Hyunjin and one from Minho. 

_ CodeDanceOff: Guys, get to Minho’s ASAP. It’s critical.  _

_ HipsDon’tLie: Please. Hurry. It’s them. THEM _

Seungmin stared at his phone for a moment, trying to parse the cryptic messages at first before comprehension clicked in. His fingers had barely started to type a response when the chat window buzzed again as Felix responded. 

_ SoftNFluffy: I just got out of practice, omw, be there in 20. Them? Would this be why I’ve had a headache for the last hour? _

_ Puppuccino: Glad I’m not alone there. Let me beg off from my manager and I’ll be on my way. Give me 20, as well.  _

He didn’t wait for responses even though he felt his phone buzz again as he tucked it into his pocket. Leaning over the counter, he called out to his manager to ask if he could leave early. She barely had chuckled and waved him off, muttering something about slow business, when he whipped the apron off of himself and tossed it on its hook. Doing what was perhaps the fastest punch-out of his life, he grabbed his jacket and backpack from the breakroom and barely got both of them on before he was at the door. He called a thanks back to his manager and took off running in the rain. 

The itch in the back of his head intensified as he ran, but he shoved it down in favor of making sure he got to his destination in one piece. He was a couple of blocks away from Minho’s apartment when he caught a flash of silver hair out of the corner of his eye. A slight turn of his head let him see that it was Felix coming up on his right, having just dashed across the street just before the nearby light turned green. The dancer tossed him a strained smile, panting as if he had also been running most of the way, and the two continued onward. 

\-----

Changbin’s phone vibrated across the counter, rattling against the glass display case as the rapper was bent down to adjust the merchandise he’d just set up. He ignored it for the moment, arms deep in the case trying to set a CD case just right against the rest of the display. It vibrated two or three more times before he pulled himself back and stared at it in faint annoyance. 

The sound didn’t help the ache at the back of his head that had been growing, adding to the irritation of the itch they’d all been feeling. He glanced out across the store to see where Jisung was in the middle of reorganizing part of the Latin American music section and sighed before standing up and reaching for his phone. 

Thumbing it on, he saw several messages from Chan and frowned a little. They’d sent a few messages back and forth throughout the day, but things had been quiet for a few hours once the older boy had texted that he was going to be working on tracks that day. Swiping to open the messages, he scanned them quickly before hissing a breath out between his teeth. 

“Jisung! Check your phone!” he called out, half-catching the upward snap of the younger’s head before he scrambled in his pocket for his own phone. 

“What’s up? I had it on silent… oh, shit.” came the reply, loud at first but then trailing off as they both read. 

_ CB97: Are you guys there? It’s Jeongin!  _

_ CB97: Anyone? It’s an emergency!  _

_ CB97: Chan collapsed on the street.  _

_ CB97: Come to this address. I got help from the others. You both know what I mean. Get here fast.  _

Their phones vibrated again as an address came through. 

“Let him know we’re on the way, Ji. I’ll get our stuff.” Jisung was still staring at his phone, fingers flying over the keys as Changbin swore colorfully and began a quick process of closing down the shop. There a small nod of acknowledgement as the younger typed out a quick message before shoving his phone in his hoodie pocket. 

_ J.One: We’re on our way, Innie. We’ll get a cab and be there in twenty. _

_ CB97: Oh, thank god. We’re safe, but hurry.  _

Changbin waited for Jisung to look up from his phone before tossing him his backpack and denim jacket, pulling on his own outerwear before turning off the lights in the store. Flipping the sign on the door to ‘Closed’, he ushered the younger boy out and flipped his keys out to lock the door top and bottom before pulling the security grating down and securing that as well. 

Jisung hailed them both a cab, not seeming to care about the rain that soaked him as he stood at the edge of the curb. Once they were both settled inside, he read the address to the driver and asked him to get there as fast as possible before flopping back against the seat. His heart was thudding in his chest as he tucked his phone away again, one hand raising to rub at the side of his head while the other searched out Changbin’s and latched onto it. 

“It’ll be okay, Ji. It has to be. Innie said they’re safe, we just have to get there. And I know, my head hurts, too.” Changbin whispered over the noise from the cab’s radio, squeezing Jisung’s hand reassuringly as the vehicle sped along the rain-shrouded streets. The light of the day was beginning to fade quicker than normal thanks to the rain and darkness would be coming in quickly. 

They rode in silence, occasionally eyeing their phones in case there was an update from Jeongin, but nothing came. Before long, the cab was pulling up to the curb and they unloaded themselves onto the sidewalk, Changbin leaning in to press money into the driver’s hands and telling him to keep the change. They had barely turned to find the building in question when the sound of running feet behind them reached their ears. The rain had eased slightly but the slap of wet shoes on pavement was hard to miss. 

Turning as one, two pairs of dark brown eyes met ones of dark brown and pale blue as two figures came to a stop mere feet away. Four sets of eyes blinked in recognition for a breath before the silver-haired boy leaned forward to brace himself on his knees, catching his breath. The dark-haired boy beside him pressed a hand to his chest and broke into a wide smile. 

“You’re…  _ here. _ Finally.” Seungmin gasped out, one hand going beside him to rest on Felix’s back as the other licked his lips. “I mean… hi. I’m Seungmin, this is Felix. I gather we’re all here because we got emergency messages?” Felix waved a hand in greeting, shoulders shaking a bit before he stood more upright to look at the pair in front of them. 

“Changbin. Jisung. Yeah, our youngest texted us that our eldest collapsed on the street and he’s up there.” Changbin gestured to the building that matched the address Jeongin had given them before directing worried glances at the other two. “You guys okay? Did you run all the way here or something?”

Jisung crossed the space between them and reached out to touch Felix’s shoulder, his expression echoing Changbin’s concern. He barely got within a hair’s breadth of touching the silver-blonde’s jacket when a voice called out from ahead of all four of them. 

“Oh, good, you guys are here. Get in here before the rain starts again, will ya?” A blonde head was angled out of the front doors of the building, long-fingered hands waving the four closer while he looked up and down the street. “We can do better intros upstairs. In  _ private _ , you know?” 

“Okay, Hyunjin, we’re coming.” Felix called back, ignoring the briefly startled looks from Changbin and Jisung at both the interjection and the deep voice he replied in. “Come on, he’s right. We shouldn’t do this out here. Besides, I’m sure we all want to make sure  _ everyone _ is okay, right?”

There was nodding all around and Jisung managed to complete his aim of patting Felix on the shoulder gently, both of them sharing a brief smile as the touch elicited a now-familiar sensation. Felix patted Jisung’s hand in kind and the four of them walked up to meet Hyunjin at the door. 

Just as the door closed behind them, the clouds above parted briefly to bathe the front of the building in the weak amber glow of late afternoon sunlight. The street outside was quiet and still, save for the chill wind that swept icily along the concrete. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! They're all in one place, but what does the future hold? 
> 
> I'm a little too giggly over some of the text/chat names I came up with. 
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	11. Where Do I Go? Which Path Do I Take?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 450 views. I'm still a bit gobsmacked. Thank you.

_ Lavender.  _

_ He was lying in a field tinted a lavender hue, the tall grasses of it waving above his head and tickling his outstretched fingers and toes. It swayed in a wind that didn’t quite reach him as he looked up into a sunset-hued sky. Streaks of clouds stretched across the sky, their tint ranging from the soft peach of sunset to a deepening blue-purple of twilight. _

_ Somewhere in the distance he heard the call of a hawk, echoing across the expanse of field like a bell.  _

_ He sat up slowly, the sleeves of his shirt sliding against his arms as he pushed himself upright. Now the wind could toy with his hair, tugging on the strands of it as it rippled the tops of the grass beside him. He could see mountains in the distance, the barest glint of the setting sun peeking between two sloped peaks as it sank into the horizon. If he turned his head he could see the first stars of evening coming visible.  _

_ It was peaceful. A calm pervaded the air around him and he felt his mouth curl up in a smile. It was a perfect moment, full of a serenity that seemed welcome after… _

_ After what? Was there something before this? He was somewhere else just a moment before, wasn’t he?  _

_ A flash of streetlights.  _

_ Streetlights? In the middle of a field? There weren’t even any roads here… _

_ Driving rain, soaking him to the skin. _

_ No, the ground beneath him was dry. There were clouds, but they weren’t thick enough or big enough to hold any rain.  _

_ “Chan? Chan! No no no, stay with me… please!” _

_ He was alone in the field, there was no one else around… where did the voice come from?  _

_ Worried grey-blue fox-like eyes.  _

_ Blue hair hanging in damp strands around an angular face. _

_ Wait… Jeongin? What?  _

_ Two more faces.  _

_ One dark-haired, a dazed look in dark eyes.  _

_ One blonde, blue eyes bright with worry. _

_ Oh. I see.  _

_ The feeling of a blanket beneath chilled fingertips.  _

_ He looked down at his own hands, the sleeves of his forest-green sweater falling away from them slowly. There was no chill there, no dampness of rain.  _

_ The ground rumbled beneath him softly and a faint green glow suffused his hands for a moment.  _

_ The soft warmth of a hand touching the side of his face. _

_ “Chan… please wake up. Everyone’s here...” _

The dream faded like mist, softer and gentler than dreams of the past, sliding into a much dimmer glow of reality. Chan’s eyelids fluttered slowly open, grey eyes picking up on the soft light of a lamp nearby as his vision swam into focus. There was a soft inhalation of breath nearby and the sensation of a thumb skimming across his cheek. A low-voiced murmur followed and there was the feeling near his feet of someone rising before soft footfalls crossed the room. 

Licking dry lips, he turned his head toward the owner of the hand, trying to center his vision on the face that came with it. Blinking a bit more brought the world into a bit more clarity and he found himself looking up into Jeongin’s blue-grey eyes. The younger boy’s expression was somewhere between worry and relief as if he himself was still trying to figure out where the moment was. 

The boy’s blue hair was still obviously damp, and a towel was draped around his neck loosely. Now that Chan could see him better, he could pick out the faint puffy redness to Jeongin’s eyes that meant that he’d probably been crying at one point. The worry faded more into relief as a small smile pulled at the fox-like features and a slight glimmer betrayed how close to the surface his tears still were.

“I’m so glad you’re awake… we were all so worried.” Jeongin murmured, giving another soft stroke of his thumb to Chan’s cheek. His other hand curled inside the navy blue sleeve of one of Chan’s sweatshirts, rubbing idly against the tops of dark grey sweatpants. The younger boy sniffled slightly before raising the sleeve-shrouded fist to rub at his own cheek. “Minho and Hyunjin helped me get you home after you collapsed, but it’s been hours and I was worried you weren’t going to wake up and then you wouldn’t get to meet the others and then-”

“Slow down a bit, Jeongin. Let him wake up a bit more, no one’s going anywhere.” Hands landed on Jeongin’s shoulders gently before Changbin’s face came into view standing over him. The rapper’s eyes settled on Chan and a warm smile stretched across his face as he ruffled the boy’s blue hair. “Hey there, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?”

Chan had to think about that for a moment. The last thing he actively remembered before the dream was the painful pulling and the moment his vision went white. Raising a hand to his eyes from the blanket atop him brought a realization with it that he was laying in a bed. A bed that was not his and a room that was definitely not his. He sat up sharply at that and was rewarded with a squeak of surprise from Jeongin as the boy’s hand fell from his face. 

“Whoa, whoa, careful. Don’t sit up too fast.” Changbin moved from behind Jeongin to the other side of the bed, leaning across it on one knee and reaching out his hands to steady the elder when he swayed slightly in place. “You’ve been out for a few hours at least and we don’t really know what happened to you.”

“That was fast. I was gone just long enough to get him some water and he’s already upright?” The deep voice from the doorway drew Chan’s attention quickly, though his head protested the speed at which he turned towards it. The silver-blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and freckles on the boy coming into the room were unmistakable. He’d seen them in his dreams enough by now to recognize who he was looking at. There was something else underneath it though that nagged at his memory. 

“Thank you, Felix. Yeah, he kinda just popped up, but he hasn’t said anything yet.” Jeongin turned his head to regard the other boy and smiled gratefully, scrubbing at his face again before reaching out for the glass of water the other held. When Felix passed the glass over, he turned and offered it to the slightly dazed redhead. “Good thinking on the water. Would that help, Chan?”

“Please?” Chan felt his voice come out in a whisper and winced, hand moving to rub briefly at his throat before reaching for the glass. Jeongin held onto it carefully when he saw Chan’s fingers shaking slightly, helping him take a few sips and smiling at the look of relief that crossed the older boy’s face. His smile deepened when Chan’s voice came out a bit stronger afterwards. “Oh, much better. Now… where the hell are we? Last thing I really remember was leaving the studio in the rain. That and the dream I had just before I woke up.”

Felix’s brows raised at that and he walked around to sit on the opposite side of the bed from Jeongin, the pair of them bracketing the older boy who pushed himself up to lean against the wall. One hand brushed his silver-blonde hair out of his eyes, the strands still only slightly damp from the rain outside and the run to Minho’s apartment. 

“You dreamed? None of us have had a dream or nightmare in days, at least not of the level like before and nothing that stays with us.” Felix spoke, his voice low and soft, the deep tones of it coming out inquisitive and thoughtful at the same time. Pale blue eyes regarded Chan cautiously, searching his face before his brows narrowed slightly. “What did you see?”

The question was simple enough and Chan took another few sips of water before letting Jeongin take the glass, half-watching as the blue-haired boy set it down on the small table beside the bed. Then his blue-grey eyes met Felix’s, gazing back at him for a breath or two before something flashed across his features that was hard to pin down. Licking his lips, he lifted a still-shaking hand to ruffle his own red hair and sighed. 

“It wasn’t long, and I think it was trying to meld with what my mind remembers of being out on the street earlier. I was in a field, everything was quiet and peaceful. It was really nice, kind of like how the dreams were in the very beginning.” Chan murmured, eyes drifting towards the darkened windows at the side of the room, the streetlights just visible through the blinds. His fingers brushed aimlessly against the blanket atop his legs as he continued. “Then I started getting flashes of the real world. Streets. Streetlights. Rain. Jeongin was calling my name. His face looked down at mine. A feeling of this blanket under my fingers.” 

Jeongin sat very still, curling his hands in his lap and listening intently. When Chan mentioned hearing him calling and seeing his face, a shiver ran down his spine violently enough that Felix noticed him shake. The dancer reached out a hand and rested it gently on the younger boy’s back, providing quiet support while they both watched Chan. 

“When I felt the blanket, I looked down at my own hands for a moment. They were glowing. There was a soft green light around them. The ground under me rumbled a bit.” Looking away from the windows, Chan turned tired eyes on Jeongin and smiled reassuringly, reaching out for one of the boy’s curled hands. His had long since warmed up while he slept and he could feel how warm the younger boy’s were beneath his fingers. “Then I heard you calling me to wake up… so I did.” 

Jeongin wasn’t aware he was holding his breath until Chan stopped speaking. The smile on the redhead’s face and the knowledge that he was the one that brought him back to the waking world hit him at once. He sniffled once before falling forward into Chan’s lap, arms reaching for the older boy’s waist as he buried his head against his stomach. His shoulders shook quietly as he let the worry he’d held onto most of the day bleed itself out in the moment. He was faintly aware of the hands that came to rest on his back and shoulders, as Felix and Chan both comforted him. 

“I was so worried. You’d been out for hours. You just… you went down so fast on the street” Jeongin blurted out, voice slightly muffled between the blanket and Chan’s shirt, tears soaking into the fabrics as he let himself vent. His fingers had slid behind the older boy’s back and he held him in the tightest grip he dared. ”My head hurt all morning. I’d left your apartment because something just told me I needed to go and then I saw you standing at the light. It was like you were frozen and the rain was so hard and then you started swaying and then you just went… down.” 

“Minho and Hyunjin were on the other side of the street. Hyunjin just barely kept Minho from walking out into traffic towards you.” Felix added in, hand stroking up and down Jeongin’s back when words failed the younger. “Whatever has linked the eight of us must have decided to take a bigger hand in making us meet. The two of them managed to get help Jeongin here get you back to Min’s apartment and in here, the rest of the evening was spent waiting for you to wake up.” 

“I think we’re lucky you woke up faster than Min did when we met. You were out for about three hours, he was out half the night.” Another voice sounded from the doorway and Chan blinked owlishly across the room towards the door. The bedside lamp left most of the room still rather dark and so the dark-haired figure in the doorway looked to him like Changbin for a moment. Then he realized that the boy he was looking at was markedly taller than his rapper friend. The confusion on his face must have been obvious because the figure chuckled and walked within range of the light. There was a shuffling sound behind him and soon the population of the room had increased from three to eight. 

“At least I was in the comfort of my own home when that happened. I was hoping something like that wouldn’t happen again.” The dark brown hair and feline features of the boy who spoke next had Chan blinking in recognition. His fuzzy memory of the afternoon pinned them down as the person he’d locked eyes with across the street in the rain. That combined with what the other boy said had him sitting up a bit straighter and smiling slightly. 

“You have to be Minho, and you’d be Hyunjin.” Chan glanced at the taller blonde who’d moved around to stand next to where Felix sat on the bed. When both nodded, he glanced at the black-haired boy whose name he hadn’t heard yet inquisitively. He noted when Changbin came to bump a leg against Jeongin’s knee in reassurance, the younger still sobbing quietly against Chan. Jisung took up a spot at the foot of the bed, sitting on it and reaching a hand out to rest on Chan’s blanket-covered foot. 

“Seungmin. Not the best of meetings, but at least we’re all here now.” Came the answer to his question as Seungmin smiled back, wiggling the fingers of one hand in greeting before folding his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t feel like something’s missing anymore.” 

There was a soft murmuring around the room as they all agreed, sniffling the response from Jeongin as he slowly released Chan and sat back to scrub one hand against his eyes. Changbin reached out and ruffled the blue hair gently and passed him a tissue from the box on the bedside table. Hyunjin’s hand came to rest on Felix’s shoulder, squeezing gently and earning a smile from the lighter blonde. 

“You’re right. I’d felt like pieces settled in place when I met Chan, Changbin, and Jeongin. Now, with you guys here, it’s like the hole isn’t even there anymore.” Jisung spoke up, dark eyes reflecting the light from the lamp and looking thoughtful as he patted at his chest. “I’d love to know why this is happening… why now? Why us?”

“Not a bad question. None of us knew each other before this in any way more than passing on the street. Hell… some of us hadn’t even been in the same city until half a year ago.” Hyunjin mused, wrapping his free arm across his stomach and shifting his weight onto one foot. “Now we’re all standing in one room and I feel like we’ve all settled into years worth of familiarity. I mean… I haven’t been this comfortable with total strangers this quickly at any point in  _ my _ life, that’s for sure.”

“So many questions, not enough answers… and no leads on where to get more answers. We’ve solved one problem and been left with a branching road with too many directions.” Changbin said softly, his dark eyes staring down at Jeongin’s blue hair as he ran his fingers through them, trying to calm the still-trembling boy. 

Chan sighed while looking at each of the seven faces surrounding him in turn. It was true, there was a feeling deep in his chest of being whole, as if the last piece of a puzzle had slid into place and the whole picture was now on display. He glanced at one of his hands a moment and frowned, wiggling the fingers and turning the hand over, ignoring the tentatively puzzled look Jeongin gave him as he did. 

“We all saw in our dreams that each of us had… powers. Abilities of some nature or another. The dream I had while I was passed out reminded me of that. I think the first question is how  _ that _ comes into play.” Chan looked back up, catching Jeongin’s gaze first and reassuringly before taking the boy’s hand in his. “Jeongin, shapeshifter. Changbin, darkness or shadow. Seungmin, energy or healing. Minho, air and wind. Jisung, fire. Hyunjin, water and Felix, light. That leaves me with earth.” 

“You said your hand glowed green in the dream. Maybe that means something’s going to show itself soon?” Felix questioned, looking over at Jeongin as well since they were both there for Chan’s mention of his dream. “Maybe we’re all going to get another dream soon, something that reminds us or shows us what’s going to happen next?”

“I’d welcome some sort of clue as long it doesn’t involve me having to pass out on my feet again. That’d be really inconvenient if I happen to be cooking.” Minho said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he let out a forced breath. “I was lucky Seungmin was there to catch me and that Hyunjin and Felix were there. Your passing out was almost hard to explain and I think we barely escaped having this conversation in a hospital. I’m definitely not keen to risk that… it’s a bit hard to explain that one of us passed out because there’s something metaphysical or something messing with our heads.”   
  
“A 48-hour psych hold is definitely not on my plans for this weekend, thanks.” Hyunjin interjected with a soft chuckle, the sound echoed by a couple of the others and bringing a bit more levity to the room. 

Then another sound entered the room and eight pairs of eyes swivelled from each other to stare at Chan’s stomach. The oldest boy’s cheeks flushed a brilliant pink before he looked up through his eyelashes at the others. 

“I guess the rest of me has finally woken up. Have you all eaten yet?”

Soft snickers and grins filled the room and Minho rolled his eyes before turning to leave the bedroom, muttering something about take-out menus because his fridge was  _ not _ equipped to feed four, let alone eight young men. Jeongin and Changbin helped Chan get to his feet, the elder wobbling a bit at first before his steps became more sure and the rest filtered out into the living room. Felix stayed behind briefly to fix the blankets before joining the rest and the cacophony of eight voices filled the apartment. 

  
  


\------

  
  


It was much, much later in the evening when silence finally reigned. A mess of take-out containers from three or four different restaurants littered the living room table and the kitchen counters. Bottles of soda and water were strewn about with them, the mess of feeding eight healthy appetites left for clean-up the next morning. 

In Minho’s bedroom, a comfortable peace had been arranged for all of them to sleep in one spot. The concept of splitting space between bedroom and living room didn’t sit well with any of them after the hours they’d spent talking and catching up. So couch cushions, throw pillows, and a few spares Minho kept in a closet had been employed to let them effectively pile about the smaller room. Blankets were shared and no one seemed to mind too much who they were curled up next to, the fatigue of the week catching up to all of them fast. 

Minho and Chan took up the center of the full-size bed back to back, the elder having Jisung spooned against him one side while Minho had Seungmin curled up to his chest. Up against the windowed wall, Felix and Hyunjin shared an old quilt, two shades of blonde spread out on the couch cushion under their heads. Changbin and Jeongin were spooned in the space at the foot of the bed, another couch cushion pillowing them under a soft blue blanket with the younger curling his arms around a spare pillow. 

Chan half-opened his eyes as the few murmured words between the others began to drop off into sleepy silence, listening to breathing evening out around him in the warmth of the room. He let out a soft breath against Jisung’s hair and instinctively tightened the arm he’d draped over the younger boy. His eyes fluttered closed again and the dark blanket of sleep overtook him. 

_ “Chan. Chan? Hey, c’mon, wake up.” _

_ Chan’s brow wrinkled as he opened his eyes to look up at a soft, sunset-colored sky. He swore he’d just gone to sleep, so why was he awake again? A head of silver-blue hair dipped into his vision and dark eyes looked down at him with a soft smile. Changbin.  _

_ “There you are. I think you’re the last of us to wake up.” The rapper was standing over him, hands braced on his knees, and he moved one hand to extend it to Chan and help him up. The redhead took the hand and let himself be pulled up to his feet. He briefly realized his feet were bare and the grass was cool under them as he stood and looked around.  _

_ Changbin was beside him in a large open field of green grass, trees ringing the far edges and the faint blue of mountains in the distance. Near to them both were the others, arranged in a ring and talking softly as they also looked around at their surroundings. They were all clad in shades of grey, no colors among them outside of their own skin, eyes, and hair. Their clothes were also the same outside of the color, loose, grey shirts with long sleeves that rested open at their wrists layered over drawstring grey pants of a slightly darker grey. All of them were barefoot. As Chan turned his head, he felt a cord sliding around his neck and felt for it with his fingers. Tugging on it, he felt something metal slide up from within his shirt until his hand closed around a key.  _

_ “We all have one of those, too. They’re all the same, just like our clothes. This isn’t like the other dreams.” Changbin said to him, dangling his own key from the cord around his neck. He was right, the surroundings felt like the previous dreams, but there was a clarity to it that the dreams and nightmares had never possessed. It felt more real, if that was the right word to pin to his perception.  _

_ “Chan!” Jeongin darted across the small circle they’d form and latched onto him tightly, head tucking into his shoulder. Chan took a half-step back to account for the sudden embrace and smiled, wrapping an arm around the younger boy. “What’s going on, Chan? Where are we?” _

_ “It feels like one of the dreams, but somehow more. Minho was the first of us to wake up here, we all waited for you to be here before we moved anywhere.” Jisung called from across the circle, standing up from where he sat as a breeze ruffled his rainbowed dark hair. “I guess whatever’s messing with us got what it wanted when we all ended up in one place.” _

_ Minho raised a hand as he was named, sitting cross-legged in the grass and looking up at the sky more than anyone else. Felix was crouched not far from him, fingers running over the grass thoughtfully. Hyunjin had his arms spread to the breeze and his eyes closed as the air slid through his fingertips. Seungmin was warily looking from his own hands to the others, expression expectant.  _

_ “So… since we’ve all only seen our powers here in the dreams… are we going to see them again?” The black-haired boy asked, looking back to his own hands and curling the fingers up tight. Seungmin seemed nervous, his dark eyes a bit pinched at the corners as he looked over at Chan.  _

_ “I… I don’t know. I somehow hoped we’d have a bit more time…” Chan replied before he felt a soft rumbling sensation under his feet. About the same time, Minho gasped as a sharper breeze lifted at his hair. Felix looked up from the grass and his eyes shimmered a faint silver as they caught Changbin’s as the rapper’s eyes darkened with something other than emotion. Jeongin’s body shivered against Chan’s chest and Seungmin’s eyes glinted amber as he held his hand up in front of his face. Hyunjin’s hands lowered, blue eyes glowing as he took a few steps away from Jisung, whose form seemed to shimmer faintly with heat.  _

_ Then a voice threaded its way between them. No, not one voice alone. It sounded as if several voices were all speaking at once, high and low, young and old, male and female, yet all perfectly in sync. _

_ “Good. You’re all here.”  _

_ Eight heads turned as one, swivelling this way and that looking for the source of the voice, barely noting that each of their own eyes had taken on a colored glow. As they turned back to the space in the middle of their haphazard circle, they saw a small silvery bubble hanging in the space between them. It swirled and spun before them, pulsing strangely as their eyes settled on it.  _

_ “Relax. Nothing here will harm you. This was… the easiest way to speak to you all.” the voice appeared to come from the small silvery bubble, the surface of it trembling when words came from it. “We must apologize that the road here has been so difficult, but we are glad you are here now.”  _

_ “We? Who is we? What’s going on here?” Chan felt himself asking, voicing the question he could see on the faces of those around him as they watched the strange sight in front of them. “I feel a bit silly talking to a bubble.”  _

_ Jeongin slowly let him go and, with a brief squeeze of Chan’s hand, moved back to where he’d been standing before the elder woke up. Changbin did similar on his other side and that seemed to be something of a catalyst for movement. The others who had been sitting got to their feet and there was a seemingly unconscious shuffling of spots until they were in an evenly-spaced circle around the bubble. Then they all blinked and looked at each other in confusion, and questions were murmured back and forth about why they had moved at all.  _

_ “We will explain. We control the dreams and have gathered the eight of you here to offer what explanation we can while there is still time. Let us take a form that will be easier for you to understand.” The bubble rippled, the multi-layered voice tinged with amusement as it hovered for a moment before lowering itself to the ground. It had barely come into contact with the ground when there was a soft popping sound and before them stood a… person? _

_ At least it looked like a person to most of them. The figure appeared genderless, skin as dark as the midnight sky and sprinkled with silver like stars. Long, unbound hair the color of liquid silver spilled halfway down the figure’s back. Pale silver-grey eyes regarded them all from behind silver lashes and the faintest hint of red tinged dark lips. The figure was clad in a dove grey sleeveless robe with a high necked collar, the wrap of it secured about a slender waist with a sash colored from one end to another like the sunset sky above them. The figure itself was not tall, perhaps four feet in height, but carried itself with a presence and calm that wordlessly commanded respect.  _

_ “There. We understand it is difficult for you to converse with something that is faceless. We have no name, but we are the embodiment of that which is between your reality and the spirit world that exists just beyond your sight. Some may call us elemental, some magical, but we help to keep the fabric of the spirit from bleeding into reality more than is needed.” The figure intoned, raising one delicate hand to brush through its hair, rippling the curtain of it.  _

_ Silence fell amongst the eight of them as they watched, sharing looks with each other across the circle. Hands flexed into fists or fidgeted in front of each of them as they listened, none of them wanting to interrupt the sexless being in front of them even as their questions grew.  _

_ “Why… why did you bring us together? Why are we here?” Jeongin was the first of them to dare to ask a question, his voice shaking and eyes glowing a soft silvery blue. He had his hands clasped to his chest, encircling the key around his neck like a lifeline. “We have so many questions… and you’re just giving us more.”  _

_ “We will do our best to answer what we can, but some things we will not be able to speak of. The dreams are one of the few ways we can interact with you and easily teach you what you will need to know.” Came the calm intonation, one dark-fingered hand gesturing to Jeongin in response. A gentle breeze caressed the blue-haired boy’s cheek gently as if the hand was touching him and he stilled, fingers closing around the key.  _

_ “Something is coming, a force we have not felt in millenia, one that we had thought had been banished from influence on any of our worlds for the longest time. It is a force that once sought to rend the barrier we present between all realities under our watch, to end the existence of that which we protect and make all the realities as one. Such a thing would be catastrophic as many of them would not be able to co-exist… and it is not known if any would survive such a merging without all of them simply ceasing to exist.”  _

_ The figure gestured with one hand and an image appeared in their heads. It appeared like a painting one might see on a gallery wall yet it appeared to move as if in the slowest of motion.  _

_ An ebon-winged dragon, it’s body wreathed in sickly shades of green and yellow, tore at a silvery river that ran across the width of the image. Its hematite claws tore up great gouts of the silver, flinging it madly to one side as it tried to reach the world beneath it.  _

_ The scene below it was that of a bucolic village, small huts and homes built around a central square. It appeared peaceful until one noted the eight figures gathered in the village square to gaze up at where the dragon was attempting to rend the sky.  _

_ Above the dragon was a misty grey sky filled with swirling shapes in curling strings of blue-silver ether. Faces of all sorts looked down from the ether, some human, some animal, some a mix in between, others only matching what the eight boys had seen in fairy tales or fantasy movies. Many of them reached down towards the dragon as if beseeching it to stop its destruction.  _

_ “We called this Ruin, though in many of your languages it has a different sound. Kaimetsu, Pamyeol, El Estrago,  _ _ das _ _ Verderben… it has many more, as countless as your race has sounds to make. It is the destruction of everything… and we cannot stop it alone.” A flick of its fingers and the image vanished from their minds, gasps echoing around the circle in a ripple. “As you saw, there were others before you. Some might call them avatars, others called them Gifted, but they were our help in keeping Ruin at bay. You eighth are not alone, there are others in the realities beyond yours going through the same. Some we came to earlier, some have yet to find each other.” _

_ “Time is running out, though. Ruin escaped his millenia-old prison earlier in what would have been your year. It had been so long since we sought help in the realities that our methods of contact were… rusty as you would say. Also, so many of the realities have changed that we had to adjust for… technology.” Dark lips lifted in a small smile before turning a slow circle to look at each of the boys in turn. Each felt a soft warmth at their cheek as the silver eyes met theirs, quelling questions before they could voice them.  _

_ “We are sorry that the visions we sent you were at times painful. We have not tried to influence human minds for so long that our methods were less than gentle.” The figure spoke as it slowly stopped turning and sighed softly. “We would have spared you that if we could. Yet… there is one left gift left for us to give you and we regret that we cannot do it gently.” _

_ “The powers.” Chan rasped out, finding his voice as the realization struck him. He looked down at the plain metal key he held in his hand and then looked back to the dark figure. “We’ve been seeing them in the dreams for months, but they haven’t… manifested in our reality yet. That… that’s the next step, isn’t it?” _

_ He could see the looks of fear and uncertainty domino around the circle as the others came to the same realization. He heard Jeongin whimper slightly beside him and Changbin audibly swallowed in the silence that followed. Seungmin’s eyes fell to his hands again, regarding them with his lip held between his teeth. Jisung and Hyunjin looked at each other and reached out their hands, not touching but letting a space exist between them as if testing the air. Minho licked his lips and half-closed his eyes in thought, Felix shifting nearby to him restlessly.  _

_ “Yes. We have to bring that gift from the spirit world here to you, unlocking the potential that sleeps within all of your people. We do this occasionally for those few that keep watch for us in your reality. You know them as psychics, mediums, magicians, those who seem to have a gift that reveals itself in a moment of need.” The figure smiled kindly before waving one hand dismissively. “Do not confuse them with those that advertise that they have gifts and sell them, they squandered what they were given and it was taken away. They continue to act as such to console themselves… a sad existence.” _

_ “How do you give us these gifts? How will we know they are with us when we… wake?” Minho asked calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. His expression was carefully measured, watching the figure hawkishly while awaiting an answer. “So far we haven’t seen any sign of them in our… reality as you put it. The water one sure would have been helpful with the storms this past week.” _

_ “It’s simple… or at least it is for us. You each have a key.” The figure paused as each of them took the time to pull free the keys around their necks, regarding them in their own way before it continued. “We will present you with a lock of sorts and fit the key to it. This is more of a mechanism for your psyche, we do this to put you at ease. When the lock is undone, the gift will fill you. It may hurt. You may get flashes of what we sent to you in dreams before. Once the gift has settled in, you will wake in your reality. Each gift will come with a spirit teacher who will show you how to use it and act as a conduit so we can keep in touch without you having to dream every time.”  _

_ “Stupid question… but what if we said no to all this? If we wanted to go back to the way our lives were before?” Jisung asked, fingers clenched tightly around his key and face pensive. He ignored the murmured responses from the others, some expressing disbelief at his question while others hesitantly agreeing. He focused on the star-like spray of silver on the figure’s skin and waited for his answer.  _

_ It turned and gazed longly at Jisung, silver eyes blinking slowly before a rueful smile spread across its face. He felt a warmth ruffle at his hair and the figure sighed.  _

_ “If you truly wished it, we would find others. It would be hard since we have taken so much time to reach you, but we would try again.” Came the reply tinged with regret from behind the gentle expression. “We would leave you with the bond we created, but we would also remove the dreams from your memory. It is within our powers to alter what you remember so that would at least recall your friendship.” _

_ “We are determined, but we are ultimately not cruel. The choice is still yours.” _

_ Jisung’s shoulders relaxed at the answer, mouth thinning into a tight line before he nodded to himself. Glancing over to Chan, he raised his free hand in a thumbs-up towards the elder in silent assent. Chan let out a slow breath and scanned around the circle, meeting the others and their softly glowing eyes. There was wariness and uncertainty in many of their expressions, but also a level of acceptance of whatever was going to come next.  _

_ “We’ve come this far… why not?” Felix spoke into the quiet, drawing eyes to him and a few nods. “All these months of wondering why this was happening, of not knowing that the eight of us were meant for something… it seems silly to stop now and not see this through.”  _

_ There was a round of murmurs and more nodding, a few gustily released breaths and reassuring smiles made the rounds before they all looked back at the silver-haired figure with a united resolution. In response, the figure gave them all a wide, white-toothed smile and laughed with a sound like tinkling bells.  _

_ “I knew we chose well. Come. Time for the last step.” Raising a hand again, it sketched a shape in the air in front of itself. A silvery glow grew in front of each of them, resolving into a triangular outline with a glowing keyhole in the middle of it. “Unlock your potential. Wake to your gifts and prepare. We will see you soon.” _

_ Then with a soft pop, the figure was gone, replaced again by the bubble that pulsed softly before shrinking in on itself and disappearing. The circle of eight regarded each other over the glowing lock before each of them and pulled the cords over their heads.  _

_ “As one? That way we all wake up together, I hope?” Chan asked them all, receiving nods and tight-lipped smiles. Each of them inserted a key into their locks and looked at Chan. “All right. On three, turn your key.”  _

_ “One.”  _

_ “Two.”  _

_ “Three…” _

_ Eight keys turned as one. There was a sensation of something sliding into place and each lock flared into bright light, gasps echoing around the circle as it flooded them all.  _

_ A rush of silvery gold light flooded Felix, racing through his body until he felt like it spilled out of him in a wave.  _

_ The wind rushed through Minho, sweeping through him from head to toe and eliciting a joyful laugh out him. _

_ Seungmin’s hands tingled with life, the warmth of it spreading along his arms, his torso, filling him a new purpose and setting him alight.  _

_ He gasped as the fire raced through his bloodstream, crossing along Jisung's nerves and setting every one of them vibrating with heat. _

_ Hyunjin tilted his head back as the coolness of water slid through him, eddying in the currents of his blood and settling in pools in the still places within him. _

_ The shadows settling within Changbin, cool and warm at the same time as it wrapped around his doubts like a cushion.  _

_ Chan felt the ground rising up from within him, mountains expanding and reaching from the sky and lifting his very soul.  _

_ Jeongin’s gift made him tremble as it seemed his whole body wanted to change at once. He felt like his was made of nothing and still everything as his instincts he had never experienced grew to sharpness.  _

_ Each felt his gift unlock at one time, the power swelling within them until suddenly it was too much. Light blinded, wind tore, energy pulsed, fire burned, water drowned, darkness crushed, earth smothered, and body twisted. Eight screams of pain echoed into the dreamspace. Eight bodies fell to the soft grass, hands reaching for each other, for relief from the sheer sensation tearing through them.  _

_ Awareness faded in a wash of blackness, a wave spangled with silvery stars and thrumming with the sound of a thousand voices at once.  _

_ “I’m so sorry. When you wake it will be better. Thank you for your sacrifice”  _

Lightning flashed outside the window. Eight pairs of eyes snapped open in the darkness, glowing with a myriad of colors as their bodies froze in place. The air was filled with gasped breaths and whimpers of pain before silence fell again, sound quieted by thunder that shook the windows. Eyes fell closed again, descending into a deeper sleep as a new storm raged outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I will admit right now that chapters are going to take me longer from here, next one will not be out before New Year's. I have to make some outlines to get a better handle on where this is going, but I nearly couldn't stop writing today!
> 
> I hope that the turning of the year brings good things for you all!
> 
> UPDATE 1/24/21: Hey guys, I know it's been a bit since I had a chapter up. I've been a bit deadlocked on the next chapter around my day job and it's been hard to write. I do have a path in mind for the story, but it's being difficult! Plus I have a secondary fic idea that keeps trying to steal my focus! I hope to have something up in the next week or so! <3
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


	12. We Start With The Same Dreams, And Face Bigger Ones

Jeongin woke slowly, blinking his eyes open a little time into the grey half-light of early morning. The room was quiet, the soft sounds of sleep coming from the others strewn about the room. His gaze settled on the foot of Minho’s bed, using the texture of the sheets to focus his vision as awareness filtered in. Uncurling a hand from the pillow he’d clutched in his sleep, he wiggled his fingers thoughtfully while recalling the night’s dream. He didn’t feel any different, just a bit more rested than he’d been for the past several months. 

The warmth at his back that was Changbin was reassuring, the older boy’s arm loosely thrown across Jeongin’s side in his sleep. Soft breaths ruffled his hair and the general peace of it threatened to pull him back down into slumber again. He was saved by the rest of his body waking up and letting him know that there were needs to attend to. 

Reluctantly, Jeongin eased himself out from Changbin’s hold, shifting in place so he could tuck the blanket back down the still-sleeping boy. He stilled as he looked down at the older boy and blinked repeatedly, rubbing a hand at one eye as if it would help make what he was looking at make sense. 

The night before, Changbin’s hair had been a dark undercut overdyed in a silver-blue that shimmered a little. He’d gotten used to the elder’s color over the week or so they’d been in each other’s company. It made him stand out in a room most of the time and ultimately made him easy to find in a crowd. 

Now the hair he looked down at was inky black, the shadowy strands almost merging with the darker areas of the floor they’d slept on. The style was still the same, but all the previous color was gone without a single trace of the silvery blue. Jeongin licked his lips and stole a hand up to his own hair, patting it slightly in thought. Slipping his pillow into Changbin’s hold, he finished tucking the other boy in and got to his feet to pick his way to the door and towards the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, the quiet stillness of Minho’s apartment was summarily destroyed by the high-pitched shriek that echoed out of the bathroom. 

Seven bodies jerked into wakefulness as one. Minho and Chan’s heads shot up together, barely missing knocking into each other as they were still back-to-back in the middle of the bed. Jisung shot fully upright, Chan’s arms tightening against his waist to keep him on the bed. Seungmin, having curled up with his head against Minho’s chest, fell backwards out of the bed as he startled and landed with a thump and a hiss. Felix and Hyunjin scrambled awake in a tangle of limbs and quilt, blinking owlishly into the low light. 

Changbin clenched his arms around the pillow that his brain only half-realized was where Jeongin was supposed to be. A sleepy curse left his lips as he scrambled to his feet and towards the door, somehow managing to not trip over Seungmin on his way through. 

“Innie? Where are you? Wha-” Changbin paused at the door to the bathroom, hands splayed on either side as he looked in at the figure inside. Pressed up against the wall opposite the bathroom mirror, his face dripping with water, Jeongin shakily was staring back at his reflection in the mirror. His grey-blue eyes flicked to Changbin’s and he shrank back further, gaze unfocusing. Changbin blinked his eyes repeatedly and just stared at Jeongin in shock. “Oh, holy shit.”

Jeongin’s once blue hair was white. Snow white. Not a single trace of the prior color remained. Over his own shock, he realized how terrified the younger boy was and his gaze slid sideways to the mirror to catch his own reflection. He took in the black hair that replaced his silver-blue and moved further into the bathroom, leaning closer to the mirror to run his hands through it. 

“Um, guys? What the fuck did that dream do to us last night?” Changbin’s shout crossed the hall and dragged the others further out of the sleepy haze they’d been startled into. Some of the boys began to try and get up from where’d they’d slept, reality settling back in quicker for some than others. 

“What do you mean, what did it do to us? I don’t feel any different…” muttered Hyunjin from the far side of the room, scrubbing the heel of one hand against his eyes. A similar rumbling came from Felix as he got to his feet and carefully picked his way out of the quilt. Jisung’s eyes were still closed and he leaned backwards into Chan as the older boy sat up. Minho had laid his head back down on the pillow and was scrubbing at his face, fervently trying to deny the existence of morning. 

From his spot on the floor, Seungmin grumbled and clambered to his feet, rubbing his tailbone as his other hand braced on the bed. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he let his gaze drift lazily over the room’s other occupants with his fuzzy mind taking note of them one by one. He wasn’t entirely aware that his mouth was moving along with his thoughts. 

“Felix’s hair is blue, wow, that’s really pretty. Hyunjin’s hair is really, really black. Whoa, Jisung’s hair is somewhere between blonde and brown, it’s cute. Chan’s hair is purple, not a bright purple, more a dark one, that’s different.” Seungmin rambled lazily, rubbing his left hand against his eyes as he did. It didn’t register to him that the others were coming much more sharply awake until a hand grabbed onto his right wrist. Looking down at Minho, he blinked a few times and murmured. “Minho… is ginger?”

Minho squinted up at Seungmin, fingers clamped to the boy’s wrist to distract him as his own vision resolved to let him see the other’s face. Blinking a few times to reconcile what he was seeing against his memory from the night before, Minho sighed and gestured with his free hand. 

“And you’re blonde, Seungmin. What the hell was last night, anyway?”

“That’s what I was asking.” Changbin replied, coming back into the doorway to the bedroom and leading a visibly shaken Jeongin behind him. The youngest of their group looked almost pale enough to match his newly whitened hair and was clinging to Changbin’s shirt. Jisung promptly crawled over the bed to get to the boy, pulling him close enough to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. We’re all here. You’re safe.” Jisung murmured, curling an arm around Jeongin’s trembling shoulders. Behind him, Chan shifted on the bed to rest his hand on Jeongin’s back in similar reassurance as Jisung continued. “Looks like we all have… adjustments to make, huh?” 

Changbin, pulled closer to the bed along with Jeongin, ruffled the boy’s white hair and looked around at everyone else. He startled slightly when his eyes ended up on Seungmin, half reaching his other hand out towards the still sleepy-looking boy’s blonde-haired head. “With ourselves and each other, Ji. I guess we all did actually have that dream last night.” 

Felix leaned back against the wall behind him, head resting against the edge of the windowsill above him and one hand ruffling his apparently blue hair. He blinked slowly around the room for a moment until his wrist passed in front of his eyes, vision for a moment focusing on the skin below his palm. Then he promptly froze in place, hand stilling in his hair, gaze locked on his wrist. 

Hyunjin, who was in the process of trying to extricate himself from the quilt he’d shared with Felix, paused in his tugging when he realized the other boy had stopped moving. Grumbling under his breath, he reached out and gently pushed Felix’s shoulder. 

“Don’t go back to sleep on me, I can’t get out of this thing.” He muttered lowly, enough that Felix would hear him at least. When no response came and Felix didn’t move, Hyunjin lifted his head to see the now-blue-haired boy staring at something on his wrist. The look in the boy’s pale blue eyes was a mix of curiosity and disbelief, his lower lip having dropped slightly open, leaving him a bit agape. “Felix? What are you staring at?”

The voice seemed to filter through to Felix after a second or two and he slowly turned to Hyunjin, swivelling his right wrist to show the small triangular mark with a keyhole in its center. The point angled towards his hand, and it was perfectly centered over the pulse point on his wrist. It seemed to be tattooed onto his wrist but the color of it seemed faded, as if it had been there for years. Hyunjin fished his own right hand out of the pile of quilt and stared blankly at the matching mark on his wrist. 

“Guess we can’t forget what happened even if we didn’t all have something change. Check your wrists.” Felix’s voice rumbled across the room as he lowered his hand to his lap with a sigh, his left coming over to thumb across the mark distractedly. He watched with a resigned calm as the others one by one looked at their wrists, touched the mark left there, and either murmured quietly to each other or lapsed into thought. Jisung’s arm tightened around Jeongin’s shoulders as they shook again, his lighter-haired head coming to rest against the younger’s reassuringly. 

A new silence fell over the room as looks were shared and the gravity of the night before began to sink in all around. No one said anything for the span of several breaths but there were a few cautious touches and rufflings of hair. The weight of what they’d agreed to hung heavily around all of them and it seemed for a time that no dared to do more than breathe. 

“Enough of this. I’m going to go figure out breakfast. I can’t think about all of this on an empty stomach.” Minho murmured into the quiet, using his grasp on Seungmin’s wrist to help himself sit up before rising from the bed. Releasing his hold, he gave the newly-blonde boy’s shoulder a small squeeze and murmured to him softly before heading for the bedroom door. Seungmin nodded slowly, still looking a little dazed, and turned to follow him. 

There was a small sniffle from the bed that snagged the attention of the room onto Jeongin. The youngest’s hands were laid in his lap, the thumb of his left running over the mark on his wrist slowly. He seemed not to notice as a few wet tears splashed onto the skin of his hand, his shoulders shaking silently. Jisung sighed softly and wrapped both arms around Jeongin tightly, pulling the boy close and letting the tears soak his shirt instead. One of his hands tangled up in the white hair, fingertips rubbing slow circles against Jeongin’s scalp. 

“I know, it’s a lot. The changes, the mark, the dream, it’s a lot. We’re all here, we all know what’s going on. Let it out.” Jisung murmured as his fingers worked, his eyes finding Chan’s over Jeongin’s back as the younger curled his arms around him, squeezing tightly as he quietly cried. Chan’s expression was open concern, his hand still lightly resting where it had been earlier. The two shared a look for how soundlessly their youngest cried but wordlessly agreed that now was not the time to tackle that hurdle. 

Changbin ruffled his now-dark hair and shifted his own eyes towards the windows of the bedroom. He frowned slightly and crossed the room, picking his way through discarded pillows and blankets and carefully stepping over a still-sitting Hyunjin and Felix to get to the windows. Pushing two slats of the blinds open, he looked out at the barely-lightened street outside and the dark clouds in the sky. As he looked up at them, a forked tendril of lighting rippled across the sky from one side to the other. He waited for the thunder to follow, but none came. 

Glancing up from his spot on the floor, Felix caught the flash of the lightning against Changbin’s eyes and drew his lips into a thin line. Craning his head a bit more, he joined the rapper in prying the blinds open to look at the stormy weather outside. 

“So much for the brief break in the rain.” Felix muttered before letting the blinds snap back to their usual shape, mustering himself to get up and out of the quilt that still covered most of Hyunjin. “I’m not looking forward to trying to go to class with that mess.”

“All this and you’re still thinking about classes? Really?” Hyunjin gaped at Felix slightly, running fingers through his now-black hair to get it back from his face. He briefly eyed a strand of it before it whipped out of his vision and shoved down the shiver that rippled down his spine. 

“Pardon me for trying to grab onto something normal this morning. It’s that or I kinda freak the fuck out and Minho’s right, I need breakfast before I tackle anything else.” Felix tossed the comment over his shoulder, pale blue eyes a bit pinched at the corners as he picked his way across the floor. He stopped for a brief moment to run a hand over Jeongin’s head reassuringly before heading out the door as well. 

Hyunjin frowned after Felix and leaned back against the wall, glancing up at Changbin with a slight pout on his lips. He didn’t entirely realize he was staring up at the other boy’s now-dark hair until his gaze shifted away from the weather outside. Eyes just as dark as his hair looked back down at Hyunjin tiredly before the rapper extended a hand to him to help him up from the floor. 

“Come on, they’re both right. Nothing’s going to change with us sitting here and staring at the walls.” Changbin said softly as Hyunjin took his hand, leaning back a bit to lever the taller boy up from the floor. Looking around the room, he briefly gestured to the floor full of pillows and blankets and raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Hyunjin smiled slightly and nodded back, stooping to pick up the quilt he’d shared with Felix and starting to fold it. The two busied themselves for a few minutes with tidying up the room a bit after their night of sleep. 

Chan watched them work for a bit before starting to get up from the bed and shift the covers on it back into place. Jeongin and Jisung hadn’t moved yet, the latter still comforting the bewildered youngest. Moving around to their side of the bed, Chan eased himself down into a crouch in front of Jeongin and looked up at him. Grey eyes met wetly unfocused blue-grey and he reached out a hand to touch the knee of their now-whitened fox-faced friend. 

“C’mon, Innie. Let’s go wash your face and get some food, okay? I know it’s a lot, but we’re all here, too.” Chan spoke up to Jeongin calmly, fingers rubbing a slow circle on the knee beneath them. Jisung ran his fingers through the white hair gently, trying to ground and comfort at the same time. Changbin and Hyunjin paused after laying folded up blankets and pillows on the bed, each clutching a cushion from the couch and waiting. 

Slowly Jeongin’s red-rimmed eyes focused on Chan’s face, taking in the warm expression the eldest wore and nodding carefully. He inhaled a sharp breath and let it shudder back out of him before clasping his hand over Chan’s on his knee. The other came up to rub at his eyes and wet cheeks before giving a tiny smile sideways at Jisung. 

“There you go. There’s our Innie.” Jisung said fondly, finally rising from the side of the bed and offering both his hands to Jeongin expectantly. Jeongin gave one last questioning glance to Chan and, when the elder nodded and smiled, took Jisung’s hands and let himself be pulled to his feet and lead out to where the others were. 

“You guys go on, I have a call or two to make, but I’ll be out in a bit. Save something for me, okay?” Chan gestured to the last two in the room while moving around the bed again to where his phone had been left on the other night stand. Changbin raised an eyebrow and shrugged before elbowing Hyunjin into walking ahead of him. 

“Don’t take too long, Chan. There’s eight of us, the food can only last so long, y’know?” Changbin tossed over his shoulder before following Hyunjin out the door into the rest of the apartment. 

Chan waited for them to go and, phone in hand, walked back to quietly shut the door. Looking down at his phone, he scrolled through his contacts with his thumb until he paused over one. His lower lip got tugged into his teeth as he hovered over the name for a few breaths… then pushed ‘Call’. Holding the phone just close enough to hear the rings, he paced back over to stare out the window and watched as the lightning flashed beyond the blinds again. The click of a pick-up on the other end almost startled him out of his thoughts, followed by the warm tones of a man’s voice greeting from the other end. 

“Oh. Hey, Dad. Yeah… I’m doing okay. Listen… do you still have the keys to the cabin? Good. Remember the dreams I was telling you about the past few months? Well… you were right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm sorry it's been so long since a chapter... and that it's kind of short as chapters go from me. Things have been rough for me offline and my head wasn't always in the right place to let me write. I have more planned than this, but I felt a need to write a small chapter as a sort of 'aftermath' for the boys after the last chapter. Things are going to skip ahead a bit in the next chapter, but I do believe in the use of flashbacks so we'll get some backup for things going forward. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, thank you for the subs, bookmarks, and kudos. They keep me going sometimes knowing that people are following the story. :) Love you all, wherever you are.
> 
> Find me on Twitter: [@ginnokage](http://twitter.com/ginnokage)


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